Hearts Call
by W. Kenseyton
Summary: Mary returns to Misselthwaite after 5 years. And Dickon begins to consider telling Mary how he feels, but is there someone who has something to say about it?
1. 1: Return to Misselthwaite

Hearts Call

Chapter 1 (Return to Misselthwaite)

Mary's carriage bumped and creaked as it moved across the road. She stared out of the fogging window. The moor was so beautiful. She had almost forgotten its magnificence. The sun slowly peaked out from the gray moor clouds. Just by looking at the green grass and heather spread out across the moor one could see that summer had arrived at Misselthwaite.

It had been so long since she had visited her only home. Much to her dismay her uncle had sent her to Miss Minchin's Select Seminary for young ladies. Her Uncle, Lord Archibald Craven, had sent her there when she was 13. It had been Medlock's idea "She is now old enough to know her responsibilities to society. A child her age should not go running about getting herself all muddy." The old dragon had said. Naturally, she also thought that Colin should go to become "A brilliant gentleman" This was much to Colin's delight since he had wanted to be a man of science since he was ten.

The day Miss Mary had to leave Misselthwaite could only be described as a nightmare. Not just in the sense that Colin and Mary would be away from the manor for many years, but the fit Mary had thrown was worse than the fits Colin used to throw when he was a child. The 13 year old was kicking and screaming as though it was the end of the world. The entire week, Mary had behaved properly hoping that they would change their minds about sending her off to London. But when the morning came and they roused her early since she had to leave, the little devil inside her emerge once more.

The entire morning at the manor was filled with screams, kicks and Mrs. Medlock's curses. Everyone was terrified of coming near her. Not even Dickon, Martha or Colin dared approach her. She eventually wore out and went on the journey to London half-asleep with a headache and a sore throat.

Although Mary had been in the seminary for only four years, her uncle had insisted that she and Colin travel the world and see what was "out there" They had accompanied him to Australia, various parts of Asia, Africa and when the World War broke out they had been in America. Mary could see the large manor slowly looming ahead of her. It was then that Mary wondered…how different would it be at Misselthwaite after 5 years?

As Mary's carriage neared the Manor all the inhabitants were running about giving the old house it's final touches for Mary's return. Food was prepared and set, the gardens were all trimmed, and the Mistresses' bedroom was fixed the way she liked it by Martha.

"I can see them! I can see them!" called Colin who was slid down the banister of the grand staircase. When he reached the bottom he ran straight for the door, almost knocking Martha off her feet since he had gone so fast. "Master Colin! That is no way for a young man to behave!" cried Mrs. Medlock who ran after him scolding him event though Colin wasn't listening to what she was saying. Martha followed them towards the door, but before leaving she took a glance around and let out a great sigh "Oh, Dickon…" She shook her head as she left the manor and watched as the carriage moved up the driveway.

All the help had gathered in front to great Mary when she stepped out of the carriage. Five years had caused Colin to grow immensely. The once sickly boy looked as though he was never confined to his bed for the first ten years of his life. He had grown very tall and his dark hair was cut closely around his head making him look more mature than he really was. His big grey eyes twinkled with delight as he rubbed his hands together to await Mary's return. Colin was handsome, and he was very, very aware that he was.

When Mary's carriage came to a stop in front of the Manor it was as if the world was at a standstill. It could easily be agreed that when Mary stepped out of her carriage that she looked like her mother. Her yellow hair was tied up in the latest fashion and her dress showed of how much she had changed. Her smile remained the same; it was as welcoming as it was when she left. She was no longer "Mistress Mary Quite Contrary" but now Ms. Mary Lennox. Before she had time to great everyone Colin had pulled her into his bear hug and yelled "Oh, Mary! How nice it is to see you again!"

"Come off now, Master Colin! That is no way for a grown man to behave when greeting a proper lady." Said . She then turned to "Welcome back Lord Craven" Archibald Craven smiled has he was lowered into his wheel chair and said "It's good to be back, Mrs. Medlock." Colin had released her and began talking about "How wonderful it was that they were both back at the manor" Mary approached Martha and took her hand as she said "Oh, Martha how nice it is to see you again Colin says that you have children of your own" Martha grinned and patted her small pregnant belly as she said "Aye, miss. And 'nother 'un on th' way." Mary's smile grew larger as she turned to Mrs. Medlock and said "May I be excused to my room before breakfast?"

Medlock looked taken aback by Mary's polite tone as she said "You may Mary." Mary curtsied to her and arm in arm with Martha they made their way to Mary's room. Once the pair were at the door, Medlock moved closer to Lord Craven and said to him "How queer this all is" Lord Craven looked up at her and asked "Why so?" Medlock smiled as she walked beside Lord Craven as she said "It is as though you've returned with a brand new Mary Lennox"

Before breakfast Mary was in her room, unpacking her things as she chatted gaily with Martha. They talked of Martha's husband, Brent Cooper, and their two little girls. Martha patted her belly and said "Brent's hoping tha' this 'un's a lad" Mary told her stories about all the animals she had seen in Africa and Australia and all the different people she had met. Though, there were many times Mary had said when her heart asked to see the glorious moor that she had come to absolutely loved.

"Was it hard, Miss? Livin' away from th' moor for so long?" Martha asked as she hung one of Mary's gowns "I canna imagine meself away from th' moor for so long."

Mary smiled as she answered "Yes, Martha. It was. But I was always comforted by the fact that I would soon return."

Mrs. Medlock knocked on the door and asked Mary to come down for breakfast and Martha would continue to unpack for her. As Mary left her room, she stopped at her door and glanced around at her windows over looking the moor. Yes, she thought, I am finally home.

**Reviews Please…:D**


	2. 2: A Walk Around Town

**Excuse all the accents. :D I am trying very hard. **

Chapter 2 (A Walk around Town)

"Mary, I was thinking that we could go into town for lunch." Colin said as he took another sip from his teacup. "Colin, I just got back…" Mary said looking at him. Her uncle made a coughing noise as he shook his head. She expected Colin to understand but when she stared at him longer she could see how disappointed he was. Perhaps he had planned a surprise for her, or he wanted to spend time with her… "Well, maybe just for a little while…"she muttered.

Colin jumped to his feet as he said "Excellent, Mary! I'll have a coach prepared!"

They left the manor an hour before lunch. Mary had made Colin promise that they would only stay for a short while. The town was bustling with people selling flowers, fruits, bread and toys. The carriage pulled outside to a stop outside a quaint little café. Uncle Archie could not make it since he was tired from his trip. Age had not agreed with the old man, and his crooked back did not help either. He was recently confined to a wheel chair since walking around was beginning to tire him. It was now that Lord Craven learned what his son had to go through his first ten years of life.

Everyone agreed that Colin had changed so much since leaving his wheel chair. If one saw him now you wouldn't believe that he used to hate people starring at him. Now Colin was very aware and pleased with the fact that he was noticed by women. Sometimes they would stop and stare at him; Colin would either throw a huge smile at them or occasionally, if the woman was beautiful, give a wink. Mary attracted just as much attention as Colin did not just with men, but other women would stop and whisper to each other. However, Mary was not as flirtatious as her cousin. She knew how to flirt and how to catch a man's attention just by looking at him; she just didn't see the point in it all. They all acted the same. So why bother?

So if one saw the two walking together one would think they made an excellent couple. It was a fine match, many towns' people thought. And so did Colin.

After lunch they walked around Main Street. They came across a theater which prompted Colin to say "Would you like to watch a play, Mary? I think they're showing The Twelfth Night." They both moved closer and saw that the Twelfth Night had just ended and the next show was Faust. Mary smiled and said "I would love to watch, Colin!" she clapped her hands together as Colin went to purchase tickets. She had never been this happy since she left Misselthwaite. Now that she was back at her home she knew everything would be better.

When Colin had bought the tickets they walked around the two for awhile. Colin suggested that they should go riding on the moor "The weather's perfect and Father said that you were taught how to ride…." Mary kept the conversation agreeing to the different plans of what she would do there until they both came across a small flower shop. Inside she could see packets of flower seeds and various gardening tools. It was a small package by the window that caught her attention. They package contained a small hoe, fork and spade. There was a sign tied to it which said "For Beginners", next to it was a small potted Lily. Mary pushed her face up to the window and remembered her first gardening tools and the plant she had found in her Secret Garden with…Dickon.

"Oh! How could you forget, Mary?!" she gasped out loud "Colin! We must go back now!" Colin just nodded as though he understood and said "Come then. Let's go…" before he could finish she had already bolted down the street towards to where the coach waited for them cursing herself for forgetting her garden. She hadn't just only forgotten her Garden but she had also forgotten her best friend.

Once they were in the carriage Mary almost broke into tears as she said "How could I for get the garden? And Dickon! He must think I'm a terrible personfor for-getting him this morning!" by the last sentence she burst into tears. Colin pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Mary. He couldn't phrase what he wanted to say to her as she wiped her eyes.

Mary's mind was racing. It wasn't my fault, though Mary, not all of it. After all he could've gone to see her…but maybe she did not notice him. Maybe when he was called to war and…no, Martha would've mentioned it. "How could I forget?" she whispered into the piece of cloth.

Colin sighed as he said "Mary, you…you wanted to forget. You said it yourself" Mary turned to look out the window. Now she remembered, her first few years at Ms. Minchin's were only made worse since she constantly thought of what the garden would look like. Or if Dickon visited it everyday. Mary had told her uncle and Colin to stop writing to her about them, so she may forget and concentrate on her studies and prevent her from crying into her pillows every single night.

" I…I didn't think that…that I would really forget it." she thought starring blankly at the moor. If Dickon was mad at her…she would do whatever she could to make it up to him. When the carriage stopped in front of the manor Mary leaped out and ran towards her garden. She zipped by Ms. Medlock who she heard say "Good.." but the rest was inaudible. Then the ivy wall was in front of her, Mary pushed back the curtain and slowly pushed the door open.

A strange sensation passed over Mary as she breathed in the sweet smell of all the different kinds of flowers. Her cheeks flushed with excitement. Now she was back home, back in the place where she had found love.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs she gasped and her eyes became watery. It looked as though a family of wood fairies lived there.

Flowers covered every wall, every surface, column and on the grumpy faced statue. A path of stones went through the garden. In the pond Mary could see different colored fish swimming around.

The place was breath taking, thought Mary as she walked through it. There were flowers of every color and size around the garden. Mary even began to tear because of its beauty. She even felt the need to touch the flowers to make sure that it was not a dream. But her biggest surprise was when she saw the old swing. "Oh, Dickon…" she gasped as she stared at the swing. The ropes were no longer visible unless one looked clearly. Braded carefully into the ropes was ivy, the same kind covering the door. And braded on the ivy was different colored flowers. Mary knew Dickon put it there since who else would have thought of it but him?

Mary sat on the swing and looked around. Dickon had absolutely out done himself. "But where are you?" she whispered looking around the garden, she even found herself looking up trees to see if Dickon would jump out to surprise her. Perhaps he was busy tending to the other gardens. Perhaps he was on the moor. Or maybe he was in another manor or in town doing other jobs for his mother and siblings. Just as Mary was thinking this over more she noticed a little note with her name pinned on one of the flowers. It said:

"_Dear Miss Mary,_

_I hope you like the garden. I am sorry that I could not greet you this morning. But hopefully I will see you soon._

_From Dickon Sowerby" _

It was written in very neat script causing Mary to doubt that Dickon had written it himself. Maybe he asked Colin to write it out for him, or while she was away he learned how. Anything was possible since she had been gone for so long. Mary nodded to herself and decided that she would return in the morning so she could catch Dickon.

She would also ask old Ben Weatherstaff if Dickon could spend a day off so they could plant and tend to the garden together like before. Mary sat on the swing a while longer and stared at the Secret Garden. Then she thought of Medlock, she wouldn't let Mary get away with having dirty dresses. That was the reason that she was sent away in the first place. It was on the swing that Mary realized she did not have a single dress appropriate for gardening.

**Thanks for everyone who gave reviews! I did not expect such good ones. :D I didn't plan on finishing the chapter here but, it was getting too long for me. I have just begun Chapter 4 on my notebook. It's all just a matter of finding time to type it out.**

**TTFN, Nicole : ) **


	3. 3: In the Garden

Chapter 3 (In the Garden)

Mary talked to Colin about what the garden looked like after dinner, and to her surprise he had not seen the garden since he had gotten back a month ago. "Because, Mary" he said when she asked him why "I thought that you should see it before I did. It is your garden after all."

"No, Colin. It's our garden" she replied "Yours, Mine and Dickon's" They were silent for a moment before Mary asked "Have you seen Dickon recently?" Colin thought then answered, "Yes, he's usually tending to the gardens. There're so many around here"

"Did he tell you anything, Colin? Did he talk to you about the war? When he was recruited?" Colin was silent and clearly uncomfortable as he said, "I haven't really spoken to him, Mary. He hardly ever looks up when I do. And sometimes he just walks around without talking to anyone" Mary stared at Colin and had a difficult time taking it in. Had the war really done this to Dickon?

"Maybe he was just too busy to speak with you…" Mary said starring down at her tea. "He spent his entire day-off on the moor once. He didn't visit his parents like he usually does. It's the war, Mary; we all can see that" then added arrogantly "Besides, if he doesn't want to speak with me, then I don't want to speak with him" he flipped his book open and practically stuck his head in it. He clearly did not want to speak about Dickon. Mary, almost forgetting what she was taught at the seminary, almost yelled at him "You stupid arrogant boy! Dickon helped you even though he didn't know you, or even meet you! Would it have been so hard for you to take him aside and speak to him?"

Luckily, before she said anything Medlock came in and said "Master Colin, Lord Craven would like to see you in his study. And as for you, Miss, I think it is time for you to go to bed. Martha will meet you upstairs."

When Martha met her, upstairs Mary asked her "Can Dickon write in script?" Martha nodded as she loosened the strings of Mary's corset. "Aye, tha' he can, Miss. He learned while 'e was away."

"He was recruited then. How did he learn?" Martha told her that Dickon had met a teacher when he was in the back lines. Then, Martha had said, that Dickon was moved up to the front. But by then Dickon had learned everything and had gotten good at it. When Martha had finished her story, Mary asked nervously "And the teacher? What happed to him?" Martha was silent before answering " When Dickon got back, a month later, th' teacher's family sent us a letter tha' th' he…dinna make it. They said tha' he talked of Dickon in his letters. He 'ad said tha' our Dickon was one of 'is fav'rite students. After tha', Dickon hardly spoke to anyone."

They both were silent for a moment and stared at the floor as if holding their own two-minute silence for the teacher. Ms. Medlock's keys broke them from their reverie. Martha said "I mun go now, Miss Mary. Ms. Medlock's probably waitin' for me" and with that Martha greeted her goodnight and left her room.

Mary lay in her bed for a long time before going to sleep. She thought about how Dickon might look, would he be worried, would he look tired, would he be bitter like Ben Weatherstaff had been when she first met him. All these thoughts troubled Mary and sleep came very hard.

When Mary had woken up the first thing she had noticed was the bright summer sun shinning through her window. She let out a long and happy sigh as she starred at the birds flying across the blue sky. Sitting up it was then that she noticed the wonderful bouquet of flowers laid by her feet. The flowers, she could tell, were from the Secret Garden so she knew whom they were from. There were roses, columbines, lilies and marigolds. A bright red ribbon tied them together and there was a note pinned to it, which read:

"_Mistress Mary_

_Quite Contrary_

_How does your garden grow?_

_With __silver bells, __and cockleshells and __marigolds __all in a row_

_Yours truly, Dickon Sowerby"_

Mary read the letter again laughing at how Dickon still remembered the rhyme she had taught him. The door opened and Martha came in carrying her tray and said "Eh! I see tha likes the flowers miss. Dickon asked me to put 'em there for tha. 'e said tha' tha would like 'em" "Yes, Martha. I do, I like them very much." Mary said. She quickly dressed herself and ate her breakfast. Taking a book, she made her way to the Secret Garden.

Time went by quickly as she sat on the swing reading the Jane Austen. In fact she was so absorbed in her reading that she did not notice the door to the garden open. She didn't hear the birdsong being answered. She did not even notice the click of boots on the stone pavement. Mary only put her book down when she felt someone coming up from behind her. She almost spun around to see if it was Colin, but before she could move, she felt the swing give a little jolt.

A shriek escaped from her lips as she jumped from the swing, dropping her book, and ran forward. She felt her fear quickly turn to anger when she heard the sound of gay laughter behind her. Mary spun around to scold the owner of the laughter but when she did, she was greeted with "Why, Miss Mary! Tha looks as if tha's seen a ghost o'sowt!" Mary instantly felt her heart jump to her throat as she stared at the person standing in front of her.

Dickon looked the same, but somehow different. He still wore his huge smile, he had grown to probably the same height as Colin, and his brown curly hair was the same cut, except his bangs which usually partially covered his eyes was swept of to the side. The clothes he wore were simple, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he was wearing his cap. But what Mary couldn't pull away from, the thing, which caused her heart to beat faster, were his twinkling bright blue eyes. Mary was so transfixed that her eyes widened and she felt her mouth opening and closing as she tried to from something smart to say.

The grin on his handsome face slowly faded when he noticed how shocked she looked. He sheepishly walked towards her and picked up her book as he said "I'm sorry, Miss…I dinna mean to scare thee…" Mary smiled at him feeling herself blush as she whispered "Oh, Dickon. I should be the one apologizing. I'm so sorry that I did not come. I'm sorry that I…that I forgot" At that point she was unable to look at him. "It's fine, Miss Mary" he said calmly causing her too look up at him "Tha's 'ere now. Tha's what's important" He offered her, the book his smile returning as he said to her "'Pride 'n Prejudice'. 'Tis a good book, Miss"

Mary shyly took it from him as she asked, "Have you read it, Dickon?" he shook her head as he answered "Me, miss? No, I met a body tha' told it to me" Mary did not have to ask if this was the teacher he had met during the Great War. Dickon then said, "How was tha's journey?" She sat amidst the flowers as she said, "It was wonderful! Come and I'll tell you all about it."

They sat among all the flowers with Mary animatedlly talking to Dickon about all the things she had encountered while she was away. Mary had noticed that sometimes she would stop mid-speech and notice Dickon stare at her strangely, with a queer spark in his blue eyes. Little did she know that she was also doing the same thing, this Dickon had noticed. "And the camels…" she began watching Dickon pick up a small squirrel and stroke it's head, he slwoly looked up and leaned forward and whispered "Wha' abou' th' camels, miss?" "What camels?" she whispered starring back at him also leaning forward. He began laughing and said "Th' 'uns tha saw in Arabia!" Despite the fact that she was embarrassed, Mary also found herself laughing at what had happened. Their laughter faded as Dickon looked up and said "'Tis getting late, Miss" and with that he rose to his feet and offered to help her up. She took his hand and felt herself being pulled up.

Mary and Dickon stood there, in the middle of the garden, holding hands and starring at each other. Mary snapped back faster than him and looked awkwardly at their clasped hands. Dickon let go his face turning a bright shade of pink. What followed was awkward silence as they made their way out of the garden and began heading back to the manor. "Will you walk back to the manor, Dickon?" she said smiling up at him coyly. His grin came back to his face as he said "'o course."

As they walked back a brid flitted back and it was as if it greeted Dickon "Good Night", Dickon turned and responded with a shrill whistle. He spun around quickly and yelled "I'll race ya, miss!" and he began running towards the manor. Mary sprinted after screaming, "Dickon, you cheat!"

Colin was just about to head for the gardens to look for Mary when he heard the shrill "Dickon, you cheat!" he ran towards her voice and saw her running behind Dickon. It was a strange sight. Dickon was running backwards, clearly to let Mary catch up, with a squirrel poking it's head out of his pocket. Mary was behind clutching her book and skirt in one hand and keeping her hat on her head with the other.

Colin jogged down the hill to follow them. Mary bent over to catch her breath causing Dickon and yell to her " Was 'ssup wi' thee, Miss Mary? T'ain't a race if tha won't run!" Mary looked up and saw Colin jogging up to Dickon. Mary grinned.

"Oh! Oh!" she gasped, " I can't breath!" with that she threw herself down, she could hear the shouts of surprise from the two boys as they ran back toward her. Dickon had reached Mary first and when Colin caught up, he saw Dickon place Mary's head on his lap and begin fanning her with his cap. Colin didn't like the way Dickon had reacted when he placed her head, _lovingly, _on his lap. "Shall we take her back to the manor?" Colin said looking worriedly at Mary. "Dickon? Dickon!" Dickon looked like he had just noticed Colin, he didn't say anything he just nodded and began to pick her up.

Then to their surprise Mary jumped up and began running up the hill. She didn't look back she just began laughing. Dickon was first to react and instantly jumped up and ran after her, holding her hat. Colin soon followed still dazed at what had happened.

When they reached the manor door Mary came to a stop and spun around almost bumping into Dickon. Mary's subsided laughter broke out as she saw Dickon wearing her sunhat, the pink ribbons fluttering in the breeze. She laughed even harder when Colin finally caught up and Dickon taunted him saying "Good work, Master Colin! Tha almost caught up!" Colin looked flustered as he held up Mary's book and said, "I had to get the book…. besides, Mary cheated!" Mary crossed her arms in mock anger as she snapped back "I did not! How dare you talk to me with such disrespect!" She looked at Dickon for support but he just said solemnly " Aye, tha' ya did. Tha cheated, an' as punishment…" he looked at Colin who looked as though he was also thinking of something he would say.

"Tha will not be getting' tha's hat back" Dickon said sternly causing all three of them to burst out laughing again. "What are you…" they all looked at where the voice had come from and saw Mrs. Medlock standing on the steps with a stern look on her face. She looked them all over, Mary and her disheveled hair, Colin's pressed pants wrinkled, and Dickon wearing Mary's sun hat. It was as though Dickon read her thoughts since he pulled the hat off and thrust it too Mary.

"Mr. Sowerby, I think that you have some…errands to attend to in town." She said starring him down. He didn't say anything he just nodded and walked passed her. But before leaving he turned around, made sure that Mrs. Medlock wasn't paying attention, gave them a wink and went on his way.

To the readers: Please Review. I would like to hear your opinion before I post the next chapter. I may not be able to post for a while since my exams are coming up so I made this one long to make up for…awhile. TTFN : )


	4. 4: A Proposed Reunion

Chapter 4

When Mary woke the next morning, she wanted to go and tend to her garden immediately. She jumped up from her bed and made her way to her closet to see if she had anything appropriate to wear for gardening. In her opinion, all of her dresses were proper, but she had to find something that Mrs. Medlock would find acceptable. At first, she had thought that Medlock would not mind Mary getting her dress a bit dirty. But after yesterdays lecture, Mrs. Medlock made it clear that she would not let Mary get away with anything un-lady like.

Dickon was lucky to have left so early and to have escaped Medlock's long sermon about "how ladies and gentlemen properly behave when with a worker of the house" Of course Mary did not listen to what Medlock had said since she did not view Dickon as "a worker of the house" but as a close, childhood friend. Mary slammed her closet door shut as she found that none of her dresses were appropriate for gardening. She would have to have a custom made one from town. But she didn't want to wait.

After deciding what to wear Mary made her way to the dining area for breakfast. Half way through her meal, she noticed Dickon outside pushing a wheelbarrow full of hay. Her heart gave a little leap of joy as she jumped from her chair leaving an unfinished breakfast. She ran outside, only stopping in front of a plate to check her hair and take two apples from the passing made.

Dickon did not hear her approach he didn't even see her. He was starring down at his shaking hands. Why hadn't they stopped? The tremors came and went and on the days when they did come, Dickon was his worst. " Dickon! Head up!" she screamed tossing the apple at him. Dickon turned and made a grab for it but the apple slipped from his fingers, as the shaking got worse. He silently cursed as he bent down to pick up the apple, and looked up to see Mary laughing at him. " And I thought I had butter fingers" she said tossing her apple in the air and catching it. Now, if it had been any other person saying that to Dickon on one of his moody days, he would have answered with a very rude retort. He found himself about to when Mary's laugh grew louder, and her face became pink.

Dickon couldn't help but stare at her, she was so…he searched his brain for a word. "Dickon…" she said noticing his strange stare. He looked down at the apple and felt his face flush. Mary followed his gaze and saw his shaking hands. She wanted to take them in hers and ask what had happened. But she knew perfectly well what had happened. The war had happened. She wondered whether she should have laughed at him, and if she had hurt his feelings. To brush away the topic she asked " You going to eat that?" he looked confused for a moment before answering "I'm on me way to th' stables. I was gonna give it to 'em. Sowt o' a…treat" he said pocketing it and smiling.

"Can I come with you, Dickon?"

" O' course" he whispered looking deep into her eyes.

They made their way to the stables talking happily about the moor and what new plants, if any, could be added to the garden. When they got to the stables Mary watched and talked to Dickon as he cleaned out the stalls and gave each horse a rub down. He also introduced her to some of the horses, Timms, Scripp, Dakin, and Colin's chestnut, Code. " See tha' 'un there?" he said to Mary walking towards a very pregnant Palomino " Collie, she's abou' to 'ave a babe" Mary also used her apple as a treat for the horses, Dickon using his pocket knife to divide it for them. Mary and Dickon were feeding Jump when she asked, " Do you still ride him? He looks…" Dickon immediately put his had to cover her mouth as he whispered " Don't call 'im tha'. 'E gets easily hurt. Aye, he is. Jump's verra O-L-D." Mary almost laughed at what he had said but seeing him so serious caused her to try to suppress it. Although, his expression seemed serious his eyes twinkled with glee.

"Whom do you ride then?" she said smiling at him "Carter" he said gently taking her arm and guiding her to a dapple horse. They stared at the horse silently. Mary's gaze shifted from the horse to Dickon. She watched his gently stroke the horses' mane; his loving eyes gently going over the horses' frame. He spoke to him quietly, Mary didn't know what was being said but he was probably introducing her.

She couldn't help but stare at him, and hope, hope that he would look at her. Hope that their eyes would meet and she would understand why she felt so strange, so giddy. She placed her hand on Carter's neck and stroked him absentmindedly, she began to weave her fingers through his thick mane and forelock. She didn't know Dickon was running his hand up the horse's face unaware that Mary's delicate fingers were centimeters away. Then the fingers met, just the tips gently resting on the horse's forelock. There was something, electricity, and a quick strange surge. They both immediately looked up and looked into each other's eyes, searching, but only finding shock. They both had felt the jolt.

Carter threw his head in the air; aware that they had both stopped paying attention to him. Mary and Dickon pulled away awkwardly, and looked towards the door when they heard someone clear their throat to announce their presence. It was Martha.

"Master Colin, call for tha" she said eyeing the two suspiciously. Mary nodded and said "Right, tell him I'll be coming along soon." Martha left winking at Dickon.

"I'll see you later then?" she asked Dickon.

"Aye, 'round noon perhaps?" Dickon said smiling at her "Will tha 'elp prune some roses?" she shook her head sadly "No, I haven't the proper dress. I'll be ordering a few from town. It may take a few days though. Sorry."

"Not a problem, Miss. After all, tha could borrow 'un from Miss Lilias" he said without thinking. When the sentence left his lips he wanted to slap himself. _Borrow a dress_; borrow a dress from her dead aunt? He began to think of how to make the dumb idea not sound…well dumb. "What?" she said starring at him.

"Well" he said shrugging his shoulders casually "I know tha' Lord Craven still has 'em. And tha has a fine resemblace to her." He looked up at her from his work and gave her a wink. Mary's blushed and smiled at him. She was about to ask him more when she heard "Jesus, Mary! Where are you?!"

They both looked at each other "That'll be Colin" she said. Dickon just nodded and went back to his work. Mary turned and went to her cousin. "I'll see you later then?" she asked turning her head when she reached the stable door. "Aye" he said smiling at her.

When Mary saw Colin, he was sitting in the library flipping through a book. "Ah, Mary there you are. I just wanted to remind you to get ready for the play." Mary stared at him before saying "What? Faust isn't until Thursday."

He simply nodded "I know. But I thought if you wanted to watch a Shakespeare I got tickets. 'The Twelfth Night' a classic." He grinned at her triumphantly "Surprised?" She looked at her feet and said "I…I have plans this afternoon." Colin looked hurt and surprised, "With…Dickon?" he muttered under his breath. Mary nodded "I haven't seen him for so long, Colin. And Martha says the war's changed him and that he hardly speaks to anyone. I thought maybe I could be there for him. To talk to him." Colin looked away from her as he thought to himself _What if he doesn't want to talk to you?_ He then realized that he shouldn't think like that. After all it had been so many years since they had seen each other… "Would he like to see me, do you think?" he said starring at Mary, he saw her big grin and she said "Come then, let us go look for him. Then perhaps we could go to the garden?"

Colin nodded "Yes, let's"


	5. 5: Reunion and Realization

Chapter 5

Colin and Mary couldn't find Dickon anywhere and concluded that he must've gone of to do some work. Then they both made their way to the Secret Garden. Mary stopped before she pushed the door open she looked at Colin. "Ready?" she asked smiling at him. Colin nodded and said "Yes, Mary." He said smiling and holding his breath.

Mary pushed the door open and walked ahead of Colin. When they reached the end of the stairs Colin stopped and stared at was his connection to his mother. He stood there as if he was scared to disturb the peacefulness of the place. "Come, don't just stand there! There's more to see." Mary said taking his hand and showing him the around the garden.

_I shall live for ever-and ever- and ever_. Those words echoed through Colin's head as walked through his childhood paradise. Unlike Mary, he hadn't forgotten the garden, he just thought that it would be best if Mary re-entered it first since she had first found it. If anything, the garden had grown more beautiful, all the flowers were in bloom, birds sung from the flourishing trees, and a pond lay host to some colorful fishes. Mary sat on the swing and watched as Colin took it all in. "Dickon's…out done himself" Colin said to Mary smiling. "Yes, that he has" Mary said "When I saw him again, it was like when we first met-" her words were cut off when they heard a familiar voice call.

"Miss Mary? Master Colin?" Mary leaped from the swing and ran toward the door where the call had come from. Colin slowly followed her, contemplating on how she had reacted to their friend's voice. Why was that? Why did she just leave him? Did she find Dickon-? When he caught up to Mary she was talking away with Dickon. He was wearing a coat over his work clothes, and a bag hung on his shoulder. "Going into town?" said Colin, trying to get their attention and stop Mary from, what it looked like to him, giving Dickon flirtatious looks. Dickon looked at Colin and replied "Aye. Be doin' some errands for th' manor. By th' way, Medlock says tha' she has a letter for tha'." Colin nodded and said "Well, shall we?" Mary and Dickon nodded and the three of them made their way to the manor.

Walking there Colin noticed that Mary was acting different, acting strange. She would blush when Dickon complimented her, she looked at him more, she would smile like a complete idiot when he did, and giggling like one too. Colin had seen many girls do this, and he never thought that Mary would be one of those girls. What surprised him though was that Dickon seemed completely oblivious of the change in Mary. Maybe he wasn't used to getting that attention from girls, or he had but just never really minded. "So, Dickon" Colin said stepping in between Mary and Dickon "Any female friends?" he winked and gave a very embarrassed looking Dickon a playful shove.

Dickon thought for a moment before answering "Erm…no. I have been busy with work and other things" he said "You?" Colin shrugged and said "Here and there, know what I mean?" he said laughing, Dickon humored Colin and gave a little "ha." And Mary walked beside them completely uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going and tired to change the subject but was cut short when Colin suddenly "But, Mary's had more suitors than any girl in the school. Never chooses anyone, she says it's because they're all mules. But the truth is that she likes to play around with their heads." Dickon threw Mary a surprised look and Mary pinched Colin's arm as she said "Well, we best not keep Medlock waiting. I'll see you later then, Dickon?" Dickon looked amused as he replied "Aye. Tha' tha will."

"What was that for?!" Mary said to Colin once they were inside the manor and Dickon was out of earshot. "What was what?" Colin answered back "We were just talking."

"Well, did it have to be about that?"

"About what? Your constant need to mess with a person's state of mind?"

"I do not!"

"You do too!"

"No, I don't-Stop acting like a brat!"

"You stop acting like a brat!"

"Colin, stop it…" she muttered angrily

"Colin, stop it…" he said imitating her. "Both of you stop this instant." Mrs. Medlock just appeared out of nowhere and handed Colin a letter saying "This came for you this morning, the carrier said that it was of great importance. And Miss Lennox, Martha said that you would like some dresses for gardening? Yes? Come then, let's have you measured."

After being measured Mary was still very sore at Colin. What he had said to Dickon was so utterly embarrassing. It wasn't all true. Sure, many boys courted her. But that was just it. They were boys acting like men. She turned her attention to her window sill and saw that Martha had placed the flowers Dickon had given her in a vase. Mary stood from her bed and approached the vase. Dickon said that she resembled Colin's mother, who people had said was beautiful. Putting that together would mean that Dickon found Mary beautiful. A small squeal of delight left Mary's lips. She wanted to run around her room with joy. Dickon found her beautiful.

Mary had never felt this way about anyone. She felt that she had to tie her heart down since it may float out of her body, the strange churning inside her stomach, and her mind picturing his smiling face. She had seen girls act this way, but had never thought that she would feel the strange sensation running through her body.

Yes, she would borrow a dress of her aunt. Just to see her darling Dickon smile. Although, he wasn't hers' she liked the thought of it. After all, she thought, you never know how things turn out.

Mary saw Dickon just as she left the manor. She skipped up to him and asked "Do you have any extra gardening tools?" He looked up at her, surprised.

"How can that garden in tha'?" Dickon saw that she was wearing what looked like a very high-class and expensive dress. She smiled and knelt down next to him and whispered in his ear "Tha'll see." She slowly pulled away and winked at him.

For a moment, Dickon studied her. Then his large grin spread across his face. He picked up a shovel and hoe, then passed it to Mary silently. "I'll be ketchin' up in a while."

Mary nodded and made her way to the garden door. She felt her face growing hot with annoyance. Why had Dickon reacted that way? He pulled away from her, as if her touch hurt him. If Mary was right and Dickon fancied her then he wouldn't have reacted that way. Maybe she was wrong. Mary angrily shoved the door of the garden open and set about gardening.

Mary was in the garden for ten minutes before Dickon arrived. When he walked through the garden door he saw the expensive dress Mary had been wearing laid out on a bench. "Miss Mary?" he called into the garden. When Dickon found Mary she was bent over some roses. She wore a pale blue dress; the sleeves and neckline were trimmed with white lace. Her hat lay beside her and her hair was braided loosely with a yellow ribbon so that loose strands of her bright hair hung around her pale face. Yellow and pink ribbons were braided together tied loosely around her waist. Dickon approached her only when he saw her struggling to pull a weed. Otherwise, he would have just stood there and stared at her. She looked like an angel.

"Pull it up. I'll dig around it" she whispered to him, her eyebrows knotted in concentration. He couldn't help smiling as he pulled the weed out from the ground. Soil came up and splattered on their faces. Mary looked up and saw Dickon stare confused and surprised back at her. Brown spots of dirt were speckled on his rosy cheeks. She let out a giggle as she saw his large smile spread on his face. He was also smiling at her and her face smudged with dirt.

Dickon reached toward her absentmindedly and wiped dirt from her face laughing and saying "Wha' a lady tha is, Miss Mary…"she laughed and pressed her face against his hand. He noticed a leaf in caught in her braid and he reached forward and pulled it from her hair, leaning closer than he ever had to Miss Mary. To Dickon's surprise she didn't pull back instead she moved her head toward his hand, causing his fingers to gently brush her neck.

Dickon looked at the leaf and muttered to himself "If there were leaves in France, everythin' may 'ave been easier" He couldn't hold back the tears in his eyes. Dickon turned away from Mary, he didn't want to see him cry. As tears rolled down his cheeks he began to sob, gasping "I didn't want to…I can't…I can't….Mary…I'm sorry…I'm so…so sorry for what I did there" Mary reached out and touched his shoulder. She began to feel tears form in her eyes as she thought about what Dickon said.

"If I didn't….I would have…I did everything for me…I don't see why…this happened…we're all people…" he gasped still looking away from her. Mary couldn't stand this anymore. Dickon was clearly so tortured by what had happened in the war. Her heart was struck with a painful pang as she watched him bury his face in his sleeve and sob inaudible words. "Oh, Dickon…" she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. She began to run her had up and down on his back as he kept hugging himself, probably unaware of what was happening. "Dickon…we're here for you…Colin and I will always be here for you…It' alright…you're safe now…and we're all here together…we'll always be together" He slowly pulled away from her and she looked into his bright blue eyes. His eyes which looked like the Yorkshire skies, now mirrored the surface of a blue lake as more tears ran down his pink cheeks. "Aye?" he whispered. He looked like a child, so innocent. Mary brushed his tears away and said "Aye"

Dickon laughed and pulled her into his arms and whispered into her ear "Thank ye. Thank ye so much, Miss Mary" Mary closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck. She felt the hairs on her skin stand when she felt his breath on her neck.

"Does tha like me?" she whispered close to his ear, so no one else would hear. So nobody could brake the peaceful moment.

He chuckled before answering "I like thee wonderful."


	6. 6: A Window to Reality

Chapter 6

Mary felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she watched Dickon from her window. Although, she had told him that she would meet him at the garden she lied and asked Martha to tell him she was not feeling well. She wiped the tear away and watched as two of the scullery maids went up to Dickon and began chatting merrily with him. Mary wanted to run downstairs and pull Dickon away from them but the reality was that they were more likely to wed him than her.

Mary and Dickon were in separate classes, although class was no longer as important as it used to be it was still there. Mary thought back to when she and Dickon had their moment in the garden on the swing when they were children. Afterwards she had thought nothing of it. Two afternoons ago when she was in his arms she felt her heart melt. However, when she was making her way back to the manor she realized how wrong she and Dickon would be. They weren't going to happen; if it did then Mary knew she would absolutely disgrace her uncle.

She turned away from the window and looked at the flowers he had given her. They looked so absolutely wonderful, so beautiful. For the past few days she had been avoiding him. She shut herself up inside the manor, since she knew he would be somewhere in the gardens, and that she would probably run into him and she couldn't take it. Thankfully she would be going to the opera with Colin so she could take her mind of her feelings.

Someone knocked on her door "Mary, we're going to be late" Colin called. She sighed and washed her face answering "Yes, I'm coming." She took her purse and coat and left her room.

When Mary got home from the play she changed and flopped down on her bed. "I'm over it" she whispered to herself "Yes, I'm much more sensible than that. I just wasn't used to seeing him that's all." And with that she fell asleep.

Mary couldn't have been asleep for more than 5 minutes when she heard a dull tapping on her window. It wasn't rain, she could easily tell. She pulled herself up from her bed and saw a pebble hit her window, causing the tapping sound. Mary lit a candle and looked out the window and saw Dickon standing there. Soot was perched on his shoulder and he looked up and waved at her. Mary opened the window, and Dickon moved his arm and Soot took off toward her. A small letter was tied to the crow's foot which read

_Come down, I have a surprise for you. Please be quick._

_Dickon_

The writing was no longer is his neat script but appeared as though he wrote it in a rush. She looked down at him worriedly and saw him gesture for her to hurry. She sighed to herself think that this wasn't a smart idea but curiosity took hold of her and she nodded to his gesture to meet him at the back.

She put on her slippers and robe and made her way hastily downstairs. When she got outside she wanted to ask Dickon what this was about but before she had time to say anything he grabbed her hand and began to run towards the barn.

"Be quick, Miss Mary!" he whispered to her excitedly. Mary tried to keep up with him and felt her robe untie leaving her thin nightgown open to the Yorkshire night. When they reached the barn Mary felt a stitch in her side as Dickon pulled her to the stall of Collie the pregnant horse.

"Now, 'ave a look at tha' Miss Mary" he said grinning at her. Mary looked into the stall and saw not only Collie in the stall but a very small horse curled up asleep against his mother's belly. Her mouth dropped open at the sight. Collie's head gently nuzzled her new born child, lovingly. Mary placed her hands on her cheeks and watched the beautiful sight as she just noticed that the straw under them was wet.

"Did she just…" she whispered looking at Dickon. "Aye" he said simply not taking his eyes of the horses. "It's a lass" he whispered as though he was afraid of disturbing them. "Her name's Mary" he said smiling at her.

"Dickon…" Mary gasped looking at him. "Collie gave birth when tha came home. I thought tha' it would be…a good name" he said laughing. Mary was about to join his laughter when she realized that her strange giddiness was coming over her again. She couldn't let that happen, it wasn't proper. And she remembered her clothes; she looked down to see her open robe revealing her night gown. If someone saw them together…she knew she had to get away. She needed to distance herself at this moment, they were too…she couldn't find the words. Mary felt her face flush as she whispered to her feet "This is why you brought me here?" Dickon looked at her confused as he said "Aye…I figured tha'…" Mary cut him off and found the courage to look at him "Dickon, it's the middle of the night. It could've waited. This is…inappropriate, don't you see?" She hadn't meant for it to come out so savagely and regretted it as she saw the shock in Dickon's eyes.

"Inappropriate? I just thought…" She stopped him and said "Yes, inappropriate. You can't wake a lady in the middle of the night just to see a baby horse. Not only is it inappropriate but it's also…impolite" she couldn't stop herself now the words were just flowing of her mouth "It's rude and…improper any gentleman would know that." Dickon was about to say something but Mary continued by saying "This could've waited until the morning. Do you think it's wise to…to run around in the middle of night with a woman? No, it isn't. It's possibly the…" Mary felt her eyes water and her face grow redder as she uncontrollably gasped "The stupidest thing anyone would do….the stupidest thing even a commoner would do" Mary only analyzed the words that came out of her mouth after she had said them. She immediately wished that she had thought it over, especially the last part.

Mary tried to say something, to apologize for saying what she had said. But when she opened her mouth no words came out so she just closed her robe. Dickon's face was redder than it ever was, and he was breathing heavily "I apologize, Miss Mary. It won't 'appen again." He muttered, pulling his cap off his head and began twisting it in his hands. "Good" was all Mary was able to say before she ran back to the manor.

When Mary got to her room she wanted to slap herself. How could she say those things to anyone? How had she said them to Dickon? She climbed on her bed and pulled her knees up to her chin. The only reason Mary said those things to him was because she was mad at herself for acting the way she did around Dickon. For hugging him in the garden, and for flirting with him. Dickon didn't deserve to get her anger dumped on him. It was all her fault Mary thought as she began crying.

The next morning Mary sat in the garden and waited for Dickon to arrive. He finally arrived at noon and Mary jumped up and greeted him, he nodded and gave an awkward grin.

"Dickon, about last night…" she whispered approaching him. He turned away from her and said suddenly "Aye, about tha'" he set down his work bag and continued "I dunno wha' I was thinking. Tha was right, it could've waited. I was…just…I'm sorry" with that he began working on the roses and Mary was biting her lip.

"I was out of line…" she muttered "I didn't mean..." Dickon just shot her a look and said "It's best if we no longer speak of it." Mary nodded and realized that Dickon didn't want to talk of it and she didn't want to push him. So she simply began to talk to him about the good weather and the condition of the flowers. Dickon then asked her politely how the play was, and she answered. It went on like that for an hour then Dickon stood up and said that he had to tend the other gardens, she followed him to the door and finally said "Dickon, I'm sorry for the way I acted…"

"Really Miss Mary, I mun go…"

"Just…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said the things I said….and maybe you could take a brake later and come with Colin and I to go around town, or to see a play?"

Dickon just sighed as he said "Is tha sure tha's wise? After all, I don't think tha an' Master Colin would like to be seen with a mere commoner" with that he left her standing under the door amidst the ivy. Mary let out a shuddering breath as she whispered to herself "What have I done?"

**Sorry, that it's so short. But I have to get my schoolwork done. ******** I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!! Thanks for reading everything so far!**


	7. 7: Reconciliation

Chapter 7

"You called him what?!" said Colin, his looking up from his book. Mary began to play with her skirt as she glanced at Colin and said "A commoner…Oh! How could I be so stupid?!" she cried burying her hands in her face.

Colin remained silent then finally said "Have you tried apologizing?" Mary nodded "He…I don't know…he told me that he was sorry…even though he didn't do anything wrong…and he said that he didn't want to speak of it anymore…so I didn't" Mary looked up at Colin who was now absentmindedly flipping through his book, he was thinking she could tell by the serious expression on his face.

Mary had gone to Colin because she knew she couldn't bear to tell Martha about it. How could she? Besides, Dickon probably told her.

"Why did you say those things in the first place? I mean, it was a good gesture…what he did" Mary couldn't tell him why she had yelled at Dickon. It was too frightening. If Colin new about the strange sensation Mary felt around Dickon, she knew she wouldn't be able to look them both in the eye again. "I don't know" she sighed "but what I do know is that what I did was stupid. How do I apologize for something that he thinks he did wrong?"

Colin looked at his watch quickly before saying "Make your apology not seem like an apology. Mary, I have to pick up some friends from London. I have to go now, please make up with Dickon before I get back. And I expect you to meet us at the train station on Monday. Can you do that?"

She nodded and said "Have a safe trip" He smiled at her as she walked him to the carriage "Don't worry, Mary. You and Dickon will make up soon. After all, it's easier to make up with someone you've known your entire life."

After Colin left Mary planned on heading to the gardens, but instead she found herself making her way to the barn. When she arrived there she made her way to the stall of Collie and her new filly. She watched the mother eating some hay, and Mary was drinking her mother's milk. Mary smiled. Dickon was so sweet for naming the new born horse after her.

But the reason she snapped at him was because she was scared of feeling miserable at the fact that they couldn't be more than friends. Anything more would be shameful to her family. Maybe Colin would understand, maybe Uncle Archie would understand as well. But society would look down at the Craven's, and Mary knew she couldn't let that happen.

Dickon entered the barn and saw Mary standing by Collie's stall. He hadn't realized that he would upset her so much. But Dickon had come to understand that maybe Mary was no longer the little girl he knew. Maybe there was a small bit of that girl left but now she was a lady. She was now a refined and elegant lady. Just like her mother, and just like Colin's mother. When she first left for the academy Dickon did not want to accept that she could change. But he now did, and that didn't matter. Not to him anyway. To him she would always be Mistress Mary Quite Contrary.

Yes, Dickon had been hurt by what she had said. But he didn't want that to ruin their friendship. When he was at France he would always think about their time in the garden together. Colin he and Mary used to play hide and seek and tag just like all children did. There were no expectations, no worries, and no class differences. Now they were older and they all realized the huge difference. They all knew the way things worked in this world. And that was what saddened him.

Every time he heard a bomb, or saw a plane over head he would think of them. The three immortal friends in the garden, and of his family, he thought that when, or if, he came back he would love and treasure them no matter how drastically they had changed. And Dickon would keep true to that thought.

"Good day, Miss Mary." He said approaching her cautiously. She spun around surprised and stared at him as though trying to register that he was standing in front of her. "You too, Dickon." She said smiling at him. But it wasn't the usual smile she greeted him with, but a sad smile.

"What's wrong?" he asked approaching her. She shook her head "I don't know. But when I do I'll tell you." Dickon chuckled and opened the stall "What are you doing?" she asked.

Dickon looked up at her and said "Taking th' two for a walk. Mary should begin to learn 'ow to walk. An' th' sun'll do well for her. Just like it did for tha" Dickon placed a bridle on Collie's neck and handed the rope to Mary "Walk her out" Mary thought he was talking to her but then to her surprise there was another worker behind her who took the rope and walked Collie out. To Mary's surprise the mare didn't protest to leaving her daughter to Dickon. Maybe that was because se trust him. Everyone trusted Dickon.

Dickon gently carried the filly and Mary followed them out into the gardens. Collie had already began chewing on the grass, and looked up when Dickon slowly lowered Mary on the ground. Slowly the filly began to rise on shaky legs, Collie neighed encouragement and Dickon kneeled by the foal also whispering words of encouragement.

Mary took a few steps forward, and then fell to the ground. This went on for almost an hour when finally the foal walked shakily toward its mother. Dickon jumped up and began clapping excitedly and Mary did the same laughing at the sight on the tired foal falling asleep while it was still standing. Dickon turned to her and smiled, and she grinned back.

"She's a fast learner" Mary said standing beside Dickon. "Aye, tha' she is." Mary watched Dickon. She looked up at his proud smile as he watched Mary the filly attempt to trot around her mother.

"Will you be in the garden later?" she asked not looking at him, trying her best to act like she wasn't guilt ridden. He looked at her awkwardly before nodding then he said that he had some other chores to do in other gardens. Dickon told the other stable hand to watch Collie and Mary, and then he went on his way.

Mary made her way to the garden with the parcel clutched tightly to her chest. Nervously she opened the garden door. She carefully tiptoed inside when she heard the animated chatter of what sounded like squirrels. Dickon was there. Who else would cause the animals to chatter excitedly?

She peeped around the rose divider and saw Dickon sitting by the apple tree with a squirrel hanging from the branches chatting excitedly to him. A sheep dog was resting its head lazily on his boot and his face was turned away from her as he was petting a white and brown rabbit. One never saw any site like this. It was special to see an ordinary person surrounded by animals. Then again Dickon was anything but ordinary. Not in the eyes of people who knew him anyway.

The lazy dog looked up silently and barked warning Dickon of Mary's presence. He jumped to his feet, much to the annoyance of his dog, and tipped his cap to her. She sighed when she remembered that Dickon was awkward around her now. And it was all her fault. But today, she hoped to make everything better.

"What's his name, Dickon?" Mary asked kneeling slowy to pat the dog. Dickon grinned despite himself and answered "Landis, it means from th' grassy plain." Mary smiled at him then asked "The grassy plain is the moors, yes?" Dickon nodded happily.

"You're always so close to nature" she said looking down at the curled up dog. "Aye" Dickon said nodding "I'd consider meself lost without it."

"I have something for you, Dickon" Mary said holding out the package. Dickon looked at it cautiously "Go on, it won't bite" Mary laughed moving nearer to him. He hesitantly "Is tha sure tha' this is appropriate?" she laughed and replied "I would be more insulted if you don't open it."

Dickon sighed and began to delicately unwrap Mary's gift. He slid the books out of the brown paper and gasped when he read the titles. "Miss Mary…" he said astonished starring at the two books in his hand. The first was Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, and the second was Pride and Prejudice. Words were being formed in Dickon's mind but he was so surprised none of them came out.

"You seem so interested in literature now, so I thought that you would enjoy reading some of the best. Consider it also as a thank you for naming the filly after me." Said Mary who began laughing and smiling at him when she saw the shock and happiness etched clearly on his face. He kneeled down beside her and said "Miss Mary….I don't know what t' say…thank ye plenty, lass!" he hesitated, then hugged her. "Thank ye so much, Mary!" he whispered into her ear.

She pulled away and said to him "Shall we read Miss Austin's work together?" He nodded enthusiastically and opened the book. Judging by his actions Mary could now see that any rift between them that she had caused was now over. They were back to being the best of friends. Mary edged closer to Dickon and so did the rest of the animals.

He began reading out loud for all of them "It is a truth universally acknowledged, tha' a single man i' a possession o' good fortune, mun be i' want o' a wife…"


	8. 8: A glance at perfection

Chapter 8

**Sorry for the long break….exams, projects and all that…thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate all your opinions!**

Colin watched the crisp Yorkshire morning not in amazement like his friends from London. But he watched it with annoyance. Mary had said that she would pick them up at the train station. They had waited an hour before the carriage showed up and there was no Mary.

When they arrived at the manor Colin was very much tempted to go and look for Mary but since he was known as one of the most gracious hosts he showed his guests around the estate. As they were wandering around the east garden, Colin was pointing out the new additions Dickon had made when a very flushed Dickon came running from around the bend.

His flushed face was also smudged with dirt, and he was laughing loudly stopping when he almost ran right into Colin. Dickon pulled his hat off clumsily and muttered "G'Mornin', Master Colin" he glanced around his shoulder as if he was expecting something.

Colin acted like nothing was wrong "Morning, Dickon. I was just showing our guests…" he was cut off by a sudden shriek and Mary came running around the bend knocking into Dickon. Before Colin knew it two of Dickon's youngest siblings crashed into Mary both screaming "Tag!" and coming to a dead halt when they saw the people from the city.

All Colin could do was stare from them to his guests finally muttering "You all know my cousin, Mary…" he gestured with a jerk of his head for Dickon to go, which suited him fine; Dickon took the two children by the hand and led them away. Mary curtsied and pushed some fallen strands back from her face.

"She shall be joining us later for lunch. Maybe she would like to freshen up?" Mary nodded dumbly, smiled, excused herself and left.

Mary straightened the ribbon in her hair and made her way down to meet Colin and his friends. That was embarrassing. Colin must have been fuming…or he still was. Mary had forgotten to pick them up from the station. She let out a nervous sigh as she walked into the room with as much poise and dignity she could muster. Her pale pink dress swished elegantly as she moved forward to meet Colin's guest. They were the usual people. There was Fred Marner, Graham Dunst, Peter O'Vandle, Mary knew them all. Except one rather arrogant looking man, his sandy hair wiped from his hazel eyes. He kissed Mary's hand as Colin introduced him "Mary, this is Gavin Heedley. Son of the esteemed lawyer Jerold Heedley."

Mary gave the appropriate smile and said "Pleasure to meet you, sir". He grinned and said "The pleasure is mine" rather haughtily. He led Mary to the table and pulled a chair back for her. The entire time Mr. Heedley chattered about his achievements in school and business. Like his father he was a lawyer. He even joined his father and "Jerold Heedley: Attorney at Law" became "Heedley and Son"

Towards the end of lunch he mentioned several times about how a wonderful wife would be needed so he could continue the name of "Heedley and Son". Mary easily caught the hinting and looked at Colin for help. Instead, Colin would not meet her gaze by either looking down or his food or continued with the conversation.

"Colin, may I have a word with you...in private?" Mary said smiling casually. Colin and Mary stood and muttered "Excuse us" They made their way to the corridor when Mary suddenly turned to Colin and whispered "Who is this prick?!" Colin glanced into the dining hall and whispered back "Who? Gavin?"

"Yes, Gavin…Mr. 'I'm so rich and powerful'…honestly, Colin. What were you thinking bringing him here?" Colin gave an exasperated chuckle and said "I was about to ask you the same question. Except along the lines of 'What were you thinking running around the gardens like a child when you knew important influential people were coming?'"

Mary felt her face flush and muttered "I didn't…"

"Oh, don't give me that, Mary! You knew perfectly well they were coming. You were even supposed to meet us at the station like the elegant lady you were trained to be. Not blindly run in like a toddler!" They were silent for a moment glaring at each other until Colin said "Besides, inviting him was father's idea. He said that since you didn't want to go out and meet suitors might as well bring them…here…" Mary felt her anger rise as she glared at Colin's slowly shrinking form.

He coughed awkwardly and said "Shall we get back?" He took her arm and led her back to the dining hall. They went on with their lunch acting like nothing happened. Mary hardly talked, only nodding to acknowledge that she was listening to what they were saying, which she wasn't.

"Shall we have dessert in the garden?" said Colin, standing slowly from his chair. His guests followed with Gavin taking Mary's arm and leading her out to the garden. They took their seats then Martha and Anne came out with cake and tea. Mary shifted uncomfortably as she stirred her tea. What was her uncle thinking? She was eighteen, she didn't need a suitor, and she didn't want one either. Especially a suitor as arrogant as him.

"What do you say, Miss Mary?" she looked at Gavin confused and asked "Excuse me?" He laughed and said "Was your head up in the clouds? Well, what else would one expect of a woman?" Colin's companions chuckled and Mary wanted to slap him soundly across the face. "About going for a ride around the moors, Lady Lennox" he eyed her over the top of his cup. She smiled slightly and said "That would be delightful"

The rest of the afternoon went like this, until around three when Mary excused herself from the group to "Get ready for the afternoon ride" much to the apparent delight of Heedley.

Instead of going to her room, she wondered around the garden trying to walk off her anger and think of how she could bear another hour with the snob. When she was making her way towards the manor she saw Dickon coming out of the stables with Carter, Mary jogged up to him and called, "Going riding Dickon?" He looked at her, surprised, and said "Aye, wha' is tha doin' away from Master Colin?" By now he was riding Carter and had the horse trot up to her.

She moaned and said "I needed to get away. You won't believe how annoying the prick he brought home is. Colin says that uncle chose him as a suitor for me. It's ridiculous" Luckily, Mary didn't notice the brief flicker of pain in Dickon's eyes at the mention of a suitor. "He suggested we went riding…and…oh, Dickon…I can't even imagine another hour with him." Dickon laughed and said "Is 'e tha' bad, Miss Mary?" Mary just nodded and said "Can I come, Dickon? On your ride? I mean I know I'm supposed to go with Heedley, but I just can't stand him."

Dickon smiled lightly and said "O' course…I'll get tha a horse…" he was about to dismount when she heard Colin call "Mary?! Where are you?"

"No time for that…" Mary muttered and started to move off to where Colin was. Dickon couldn't let this happen, he knew what he was about to do was stupid but he couldn't help it. "Mary…" she looked at him questioningly he held out his hand and said "Tha can still escape." he grinned mischievously at her. She smiled and took his hand, he pulled her up on Carter in one easy sweep and they were off. Mary could still here Colin calling for her as they made their way to the moors.

When they were far away from the manor they couldn't help but burst into fits of laughter about what they had done. It was so childish, so in the moment they couldn't believe it. Dickon dismounted, careful not to kick Mary who was seated behind him. The whole journey, she clung to his waist. Her laughter was all he could hear aside from Carter's pounding hooves.

He helped her off the horse and they walked side by side. Mary told him about Gavin Heedley and how he probably loved himself more than his money. "I mean what was Uncle Archie thinking?" Dickon smiled to himself "Tha' tha should be statin' a family, per'aps? Tha's training would go to waste if tha became a spinster." Mary nodded and said "I can't imagine myself…getting married without liking the person. Could you?"

Dickon slowly shook his head and looked at his boots. No, he couldn't. But that was reality; Mary was too…high in the social statues. He was just a common worker. "It will 'appen sooner or later" he muttered and looked up at the sky.

"Hopefully later…" Mary said smiling at Dickon "I mean I have all the time in the world to find the right person…and I don't need anyone to push that person in my face. I can find him all by myself…thank you very much." She expected Dickon to laugh, but he didn't. He just stared blankly across the horizon.

"May'aps tha has found 'im" he muttered, barely audible. Dickon bit his lip worriedly, he hadn't meant for that to come out. Maybe Mary hadn't heard him. However, Mary _had_ heard him, and deciphered what he meant. Though she didn't say it, she felt her heart skip with shock. She shyly looked at her feet and felt Dickon's gaze on her. As she looked up at him and saw his eyes filled with worry, she smiled slightly at him to calm him.

Mary brushed her hand gently against his, and heard Dickon's sharp intake of breath. She wasn't thinking clearly, she was completely caught in the moment. Caught up in what Dickon had just said.

When Mary brushed her hand against Dickon's he felt like he would faint. He wrapped Carter's rein tighter around his left wrist nervously. Then he felt his had brush against hers again, then he felt Mary's middle and pointer finger wrap around his. Then he couldn't help it anymore, he took her hand in his and their fingers intertwined. Dickon looked over at Mary, who smiled at him and rested her head lightly on his shoulder. This was magic, Dickon thought. Nothing compared to how he felt about Mary holding his hand and leaning on him.

It was in that moment that Dickon and Mary knew that this was perfect.

**Not over yet! Please remember to R&R. TY!!!**


	9. 9:Introduction to an eventful night

Chapter 9

**First of I would like to apologize for the very long break. But I'm back now and I hope that this next chapter makes up for the whole break. Thanks for all the comments and suggestions, they mean a lot to me. ******

Perfect does not always last forever. Mary wasn't thinking about this, she was thinking of the warm hand entwined with hers. She was thinking about the wonderful man who shared her feelings. He did, didn't he? That's why he was with her now. Dickon let out a content sigh and turned to smile at her.

His beautiful blue eyes twinkled as he flashed his crooked grin at her. She couldn't hold back the giggle as he winked at her. Then his hand slowly let go of hers and brushed back a strand of hair. His smile faded as he stared into her eyes. Dickon's hands then took both of hers and laced his fingers around Mary's fingers. She smiled lightly as Dickon slowly began to close the space between them.

"Mary?! Mary is that you?" Colin call made them both jump back with shock. Dickon hurriedly let go of her hands, took the reins of the horse and looked at his feet. Mary felt herself blush as she called back "Yes? Yes, Colin. It's me!" she could see him riding up on his horse. From where she was standing she could barely make him out.

What if he saw? That was nonsense because if he did then he would sound like he did see what had just happened. She cautiously stepped forward and met her cousin.  
"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere! Listen Mary, I understand that you don't like the man but do you have to run off like that?" He shouted all the while coming closer on his horse.

Mary couldn't think of anything to say. Had he seen her and Dickon? Maybe he didn't, he wasn't saying anything about it. So he probably didn't.

"Miss Mary said tha' she just needed a wee bit o' fresh air" Dickon suddenly said coming up from behind her "Isn't tha' right, Miss Mary?" he looked at her and winked. Mary looked at Dickon dumbly, he smiled at her, and she smiled back. "Yes. That and I honestly did not want to spend another minute with Mr. Hedley"

Colin smirked and said "It's Heedley actually" Mary sighed frustrated and said "Oh, who honestly cares, Colin?" In that little break it reminded them when they were children, when Colin or Mary would annoy each other just for fun. Dickon smiled at them, remembering it, and then he started laughing. Mary and Colin looked over at him and started laughing as well. The three immortal friends laughed like they didn't have a care in the world. Which they didn't actually.

Colin came to first and said "Mary, you do know that whether or not you like him there's going to be a dinner tonight and you have to face him. And his father…." Mary blinked in surprise "His father?"

Dickon coughed awkwardly and Colin answered twisting the reins in his hands "Yes, Father is bringing him later, him and his other friends…and their sons" Mary crossed her arms " I don't want to meet with any more suitors." Colin sighed and said "They'll bring some of their daughters…Mary stop being such a baby and let's go already" He reached out his hand to pull her up on his horse. Mary turned to Dickon and saw that he had already pulled himself up on Carter. She wanted to ride with him, but Colin was there. That would be inappropriate. Dickon noticed Mary looking at him and said "Does tha need help?" he said beginning to dismount.

Mary shook her head, took Colin's hand and pulled herself on his horse. Before she could stop herself she said "Dickon, we'll race you."

Dickon smirked nodded and said "Ready…?" Colin shifted uncomfortably. Dickon noticed and said "Scared, Master Colin?" Colin smiled and said "Not at all..." Mary laughed and yelled "GO!" the two horses took off with Carter slightly in the lead. And once again they were back to being children.

Dickon won the race but Colin insisted he had lost on purpose, which caused both Mary and Dickon to tease him more. But Dickon made him feel better by saying that Code had to carry both Colin and Mary, so Carter was faster with just Dickon. Mary told Martha about the race and the walk she had with Dickon. She of course did not include the part about when they held hands. And she left out what Dickon had whispered to her on the walk back to the manor.

He told her that they really didn't have to talk about what happened on the moors. It was just the act of…thoughtless judgment he said. She wasn't as hurt as she thought she would be, probably because she didn't really want to think of it either. They'd still be friends though. Nothing would stop that. Martha adjusted a pin that made sure Mary's hair looked perfect.

"Oh, Miss Mary! Tha looks like a princess o' sowt" Mary smiled and looked at her self in the mirror. It was a silver gown with sleeves that came of her shoulder; the bottom was embroidered with fleur de lis and other desings. And around her neck she wore simple silver necklace with a blue gem hanging from the chain. "Thank you Martha, but these shoes…" The shoes were painful. Just then Miss Medlock came in and said "You don't have to dance, you can just sit and be pretty." Mary adjusted a fallen strand of hair. "You best get downstairs. Everybody is waiting to see you."

**More to come. I just need time to map out the story. I'll either post later or tomorrow. Enjoy! R&R**


	10. 10: The Much Awaited Angel

**To my readers: If there's any confusion. Chapter 10-11 have been posted before, but in one chapter. I posted it as a raw version and now here are the edited chapters. Okay, that's all:D enjoy reading:)**

Chapter 10

Colin laughed as Mrs. Heedley made another 'joke', as they called it, about another lawyer firm. He was required to laugh with them of course. To speak with them and drink with them. "Jerold, do you remember the time when…" she chatted on tapping her husband with her pudgy fingers. They were a comical family, The Heedleys, thought Colin. Mrs. Margaret Heedley was a rather tall and large lady, while Mr. Jerold was a head shorter and incredibly skinny. Colin was surprised that Gavin had turned out looking as dashing as he did. The same could not be said however about his sister, Elizabeth Heedley. To put it lightly, the friends of Colin would remark, she looked like "The wrong end of a horse's turd."

"…and he said 'the YOUTHS are fascinating subjects, aren't they?'" That must have been the punch line of Mrs. Heedley's joke since her and her husband burst out laughing. Colin and his companions did the same, while chugging down more of the champagne. "The music is delightful, Colin." remarked Elizabeth smiling lightly at him. "Yes, thank you. They're the best we could find." He replied smiling back at her best he could.

"Well, it's a shame to put them to waste." Said Mrs. Heedley "Master Craven, if it wouldn't be a problem…would you dance with dear Elizabeth?" Elizabeth stared at her mother with fear. Colin fingered his glass awkwardly since he felt his friends snickering behind him. It would be rude to say 'no', "Yes, why not?" he muttered offering his arm to her.

It was not easy to twirl around the dance floor with the bulky figure of Ms. Elizabeth. Nor was it painless, the poor girl was so nervous she kept stepping on Colin's feet. "Sorry…sorry" she would mumble to herself and Colin would offer her a smile and say that it was alright. The dance lasted for what felt like hours. Colin excused himself from the Heedley's and made his way around the crowded hall.

"Colin! Colin Cravin!" called a voice; Colin turned and saw a friend of his from University. "Louie, it's so nice to see you here." Colin said while shaking his hand.

"Yes, yes I know it is. After all I truly am I sight for sore eyes…and well eyes let me add." He said adjusting his spectacles.

"Of course…" Colin said chuckling. Then the music stopped and everyone had turned their attention to the stairs. Curious, Colin did the same. "By George…" whispered Louie "I wasn't aware that angels came down to Earth for parties…"

Yes, that would be the perfect word to describe the delicate creature that descended the stairs. Mary looked absolutely ethereal as she descended the grand staircase. She smiled nervously at Colin who excused himself from Louie and moved forward to receive his cousin.

"Why are they starring?" whispered Mary to Colin and his father. "Because my child," Archibald Craven whispered into her ear "You look like an angel. "

They walked her around and introduced her to the 'Lord-of-this' or the 'Duke-of-something'. There was the pointless banter about the weather, gossip from the ladies, non-stop introductions, and men approaching Mary asking for a dance. One of them had been the very arrogant Gavin Heedley, who constantly flirted with Mary throughout the dance.

Mary stood with the other unwed ladies as they talked about what unwed ladies talked about. "He's a handsome fellow, don't you think?" commented Rebecca Gallaway to Mary after she had returned from the dance with Gavin. "Yes, indeed he is" Mary answered blankly starring into her glass. "He's an awful flirt I've heard…" said Jane Powell. "That" said Mary "is very true. It gets quite irritating at times."

"Nonsense!" said Rebecca "It don't believe that being flirted with by one of the most well bred men can be irritating!" The other girls giggled, Mary shook her head and Claire Powell, the sister of Jane, said "Not unless there's another suitor in the frame" The other ladies starred at Mary urging her to tell them about this "suitor" But Mary shook her head and said "There is no other suitor not that I am aware of."

Thankfully the course of the conversation turned to other topics, the suitor of the other ladies. Mary laughed and joked with them, despite her utter and terrible boredom. "I beg your pardon, ladies" said an American voice behind Mary, the ladies smiled coyly and Mary turned to face the voice. "Miss Mary Lennox?" asked the young man smiling lightly at Mary.

"Yes?" said Mary studying him. The American would be nothing short of handsome. Very handsome that is. His black hair, brought contrast to his slightly pale skin. He was the average height of most men, and his was very clean, without a beard or stubble. But what set him apart were his large brown eyes which sparkled and twinkled at the same time.

"I apologize for interrupting your…talk with your friends." He said nodding toward the other ladies. "Your apology is accepted, sir" said Jane smiling flirtatiously at the young American. "Thank you." He responded politely "I would just like to introduce myself to you and perhaps…ask you for a dance?"

Mary shifted in place and answered "Perhaps when I know your name, I shall agree to dance with you." He chuckled and introduced himself "My name is Julian Ramsey, from the United States of America. As you have probably concluded by now, Miss Lennox. And I would just be honored to have a dance with you? If you do not mind of course."

"No, I don't." Mary said offering him her hand. Their dance was very pleasant, he knew his way around the dance floor and made very nice conversation with her. Starting with, "I don't mean to be rude, or to judge your character, but you looked really bored with those girls." Mary blinked, quite confused, and smiled at him "Yes, I was." The first dance soon ended. But they stood to the side and talked about anything they came upon. He asked her to a second dance. But before she could respond Gavin came to ask her to dance as well. She was about to decline Gavin's and accept Julian when Mrs. Heedley and friends came up to them and began to chat with Julian. Clearly he was occupied so Mary agreed to dance with Gavin.

"It must have been awful dancing with that Yank." whispered Gavin. Mary ignored him and thought to herself "Better than dancing with you." Gavin, unfortunately didn't take this as a sign to change subject, instead he went on. "It must be like dancing with those uncultured commoners." Mary almost yelled at him. He meant Martha, Mrs. Sowerby…and Dickon even. In her frustration she tripped on her dress and fell backward on a waiter carrying glasses of champagne.

She fell on her on the waiter and the liquid spilled all over her head and dress. Exclamations of surprise were heard all around the room. Gavin tried to pull her up but she shoved his hand away, murmured a rushed apology to the waiter, got up and ran away from the hall. She could hear the people calling after her but she kept running. She ran out of the house, and into the garden. She reached the Secret Garden and shoved it open.

Then she stopped and made her way to the swing, she sat down and pulled the clips out of her damp hair and bit her lip trying to stop herself from sobbing. "Miss Mary?" a disembodied voice from the dark said "What's tha' doin' 'ere?" Yes, it was Dickon. Perhaps this night would turn out better than expected.


	11. 11:The Moonlit Dance

Chapter 11

"Tending to my sore feet" she muttered flexing her toes "And my champagne soaked hair. It's awful in there Dickon. You're lucky that you don't have to deal with it."

He nodded slowly looking past her. "Wha' happened?" And she told him. From the people starring at her as she descended the stairs, to the dancing with Gavin, her meeting Julian and her tripping on her dress and the champagne incident, "It's a very eventful night…don't you agree?"

Dickon smiled and sat in front of her and asked "May'aps tha's exaggerating. Tha seems t' 'ave met an interesting person."

"You're referring to Julian?" Mary asked squeezing more champagne out of her hair "Yes, he does seem quite interesting. But perhaps he's just a suitor in sheep's clothing"

Dickon shook his head and whistled "Tha's too harsh. Wolves can be trained."

She laughed "It's not easy, mind you. To be a suitor." She said smugly "In fact, I feel that you cannot even attempt to give a lady a good dance."

Dickon grinned "Well then, I beg t' differ." He pulled his cap off his head and pushed his hair back with his hand, imitating the slicked back hair of the men she had met. Mary giggled when she realized what Dickon was doing, especially when he imitated the face of one who would look like they had mountains of wealth, and were happy to let the fact be known.

He walked over to her, as serious as he could, trying to copy their cocky tilt of the head. She couldn't hold back her laugher when he threw he gave her an over exaggerated bow and said arrogantly "May I 'ave this dance, Miss Lennox?" she smiled at him then played along, acting like he was indeed one of the 'elite class'.

"Yes, you may Duke Sowerby of the Gardens" he winked at her and smiled, taking her hand in his. Then he started to whirl her around the tree, soon they both began to giggle when Dickon's pet ferret joined in the dance circling their legs.

Their dance around the tree did not last long, since the ferret was overly excited and tripped Dickon, which in turn caused Mary to trip as well. They both burst out laughing when they fell in a heap on the grass, with Mary on top of Dickon. They lay there, just laughing, with the ferret innocently rolling around a few inches away from them. The position they were in caused Mary's untied wet hair to fall around their faces forming a curtain around them, shielding them from the world.

When the laughing subsided there was a thick silence. The only sound which pierced it was their heavy breathing. Dickon starred into Mary's eyes, she felt as though they were piercing through her. He slowly reached up and ran his hand down a strand of her golden hair.

"Mary…" he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Yes…" she whispered back.

Dickon opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly they heard "Miss Lennox?! Miss Lennox, are you out here?" Julian's voice could be faintly heard over the walls of the garden, but it was enough to cause Mary to come back to what was going on.

"I have to go!" she didn't turn to see if Dickon had gotten up, instead she ran out of the garden while trying to get her shoes on. She came to a halt leaning against a tree and making an attempt to fix her hair. "Miss Lennox?" Mary turned around and saw Julian approaching her at a brisk walk holding out a kerchief. "Are you alright? Did any of the glass cut you?"

"I'm alright, thank you, Mr. Ramsey" she said accepting the tucking her hair behind her ear "See? No cuts…"

He shook his head and said "Quite the opposite, Miss Lennox. You have a cut on your fore head." He reached out and pressed his kerchief on the cut and pulled away. "See? You're bleeding." Then he offered it to her, and she took it pressing the kerchief to her forehead. "Well…I didn't feel it…" she whispered smiling at him.

"No, I guess not." He said smiling back. _He has a nice smile_, thought Mary. "May I walk you back inside?" he asked offering her his arm.

"No," she whispered "Let's just…stay here…for awhile…while I bleed out." She joked, giggling. Julian laughed and nodded "Alright."

So they stood there and talked. They talked about whatever came to their mind, and joked about whatever came to their mind. Then Colin came and informed Julian that people were looking for him inside. Julian excused himself then Colin walked Mary to the servant's entrance and said to her "Go and get cleaned up. If you like you don't have to come back down. I'll say that you caught a cough or something." Mary smiled and said "Thank you, Colin. Too bad for you, then. You need to handle the coyotes yourself." Colin laughed and said "One of us must. Good night then, Mary"

"Good night, Colin." And she made her way to her room. Once she was cleaned up she lay on her bed and starred out at the moon. _How interesting it is, _she thought to herself, _that one night can become so strange and confusing. _


	12. 12: The Old Swing

**Bonjour, my dear readers! :))  
**

**So it's been monthsandmonthsandmonths since my last chapter. This is actually quite a short chapter. But still...I hope you enjoy it:)**

**I would like to apologize though for the accents of our Yorkshire characters:( My brain's been soggy on accents lately. Anyway, because of this A(H1N1) world pandemic my school has been closed for a week. So, despite the mountain of assignments given to us I will try my best to write more chapters:)**

**Please pray for those infected (one of my friends:(() and for their speedy recovery. So we can all go back to school and live *hopefully* happily ever after:)**

**So that's that for now:) If I can finish most of my HW by tomorrow I guarantee a new chapter by the end of this week (or sooner, depending on the time I get to accomplish the HW)**

**Enjoy:) Please...comments as always!!:D:D  
**

** 333 cole48:)**

Chapter 12

The birds flew from flower to flower and the butterflies tagged along, happy to be part of a game. And the young squirrels flung nuts at each other while their parents snoozed up in the tree. The garden, The Secret Garden, looked especially ethereal in the summer. Especially that day.

But Mary didn't see the birds, or the butterflies, or the squirrels. She sat in her room, feigning sickness so she didn't have to deal with anyone. Deal with the Heedley's as the walked about the gardens and sipped their tea and nibbled their crackers. They were leaving tonight. At least for that Mary was grateful for.

But she wasn't just avoiding Gavin Heedley. It is needless to say she was avoiding the boy she met enchanting the animals so many years ago. Well, he wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. The man, if Mary wasn't careful, she would loose her heart too. Or the man who she already lost her heart too.

"Knock, knock" came Martha's voice as she elbowed Mary's bedroom door open. "I brought tha' some tea" she said wheeling in a tray with some tea and biscuits.

"Thank you. No strawberry jam?" asked Mary eyeing the plate of biscuits.

"Just lemon, Miss. I sent Dickon out to get some though. He'll be in town all day, I told him 'Might as well get some jam for tomorrow's breakfast'"

"He'll be out all day?"

"Aye." Martha excused herself and said she'll come clean up the tray when Mary calls since she had many more chores to attend to. Mary waited until she could no longer hear Martha's footsteps. She then sprang up and pulled on the first dress she saw. Mary was used to slipping out to the garden unnoticed.

And when she got there she walked around taking in the beauty of the Secret Garden. There wasn't anything to be afraid of; Dickon was gone for the day. She could stay in the garden and avoid the awkward encounter they might've had. She didn't want to see him. Especially after the previous night. It was a crush, it would wear off eventually.

She imagined that she may have had a crush on him when they were children. Mary probably hadn't known what a crush felt like, but maybe she did. When she was little and had met Dickon all she wanted to do was see him again. Why, she even wanted to see him even before she had met him because of Martha's stories. But now, she didn't want to see him, she wanted to, but she knew how terrible that may be with all the feelings bouncing around them lately.

She sat on the swing and closed her eyes. Even with her eyes closed she could somehow see the beauty of the garden. She could feel the rays of the sun on her cheeks; she could hear the chirping of the birds. Everything was absolutely beautiful.

"Miss Mary…"

Mary's eyes snapped open when she heard Dickon's voice. And there he was. Dickon. Wonderful Dickon. Incredible Dickon. Beautiful Dickon. She bit her lip and jumped up from the swing ready to bolt towards the door and lock herself in her room and just cry. Just cry herself to sleep because of what an idiot she was.

"Please…" he said stepping closer to her "Please sit…Don't go…"

And Mary sat. Dickon twisted his cap in his hands.

"Martha said tha was sick."

"I lied" she whispered.

"How come?"

"I didn't want to see you."

"Wha'?"

"Martha said you'd be gone all day" she squeezed the ropes of the swing.

"I just got back. Why didn't tha want t' see me?"

"Don't be like that. You know why."

"Last night…?"

Mary nodded. Dickon smiled and moved closer to her. He stopped beside her, taking one of the vine covered ropes in one hand.

"Does tha remember…when we were younger…we both sat 'ere while Colin took our picture?" Mary didn't answer she looked away, but she could feel his blue eyes watching her.

"I wonder if we'll still fit…?" he said slightly tugging the rope.

"Don't be ridiculous…" Mary said.

That didn't stop him. He walked to her other side and began to sit down telling her to move over. She couldn't help but begin to giggle as the two of them squashed onto the little swing. They sat the way they did before, with Mary facing the garden and Dickon facing the stone wall.

"It's a little snug…" Dickon said holding the rope beside him.

"Just a little" Mary said laughing.

"Let's try to push it." Dickon said beginning to move the swing with his legs.

"Stop it, Dickon!" Mary said grasping the rope beside her with her two hands "Stop it! You'll break it!" she cried laughing. Dickon started laughing as well as the swing started swaying back and forth. Mary reached out and grabbed the other rope to steady herself. Dickon looked at Mary. And Mary looked at Dickon. She looked into his wonderfully blue eyes, she could get lost there she thought.

When they were younger Colin instructed Dickon to sit with Mary on the swing so he could take a picture of them. Mary thought it was in that moment that she may have fallen for Dickon. But Dickon knew that in that moment he had, for sure, fallen in love with Mary.

There they were again. Dickon and Mary on the swing. Dickon could not deny that he had for many years thought up this very moment. Mary leaned closer a little; Dickon let out a shaky breath and moved his hand to stroke her cheek. Their kiss was short and sweet. They lingered as the kiss ended. Their lips still barely and inch away.

They opened their eyes. Dickon kissed her again.

"Mary…" he whispered. Their heads still close enough for Mary to feel his breath on her lips.

"I love tha, Mary" he said looking into her eyes. "I love you…"

Mary smiled and kissed him "I love you too, Dickon"


	13. 13: The Chocolate Wrapper

Chapter 13 (The Chocolate Wrapper)

_Mary and Colin chased each other around the garden playing tag. It wasn't as fun as hide and seek, but Dickon was off somewhere doing who knows what, so it was just the two of them. Colin slipped on a patch of ice and fell flat on his rump, laughing his head off. Mary sat down beside him and tried to catch her breath. _

_Then there was Soot swooping down in front of them to chastise their clumsiness. _

_"Soot! Soot!" Colin said in between his laughter "Is Dickon here?"_

_"Aye! Dickon's here!" called a voice right before Colin got whacked in the jaw by a snow ball. It took a second for Colin to recover before jumping up to throw some snow back at Dickon, who had already hurled one at Mary as well._

_There they were. The three immortal friends in the Secret Garden. Granted the winter snow colored the Garden grey and white. It was still beautiful though. After a few minutes the three of them were too tired to continue running, so they just flopped down on the snow trying to catch their breath. _

_"How was your day?" Mary asked turning to Dickon. _

_"Alright…Oh…I got a Valentine's card." He said shrugging like it didn't really matter._

_"Let me read it…" Colin said. Dickon made no protest handing it to Colin saying _

_"It doesn't say much" _

_"'Roses are red, Violets are blue, sugar is sweet and I love you. You're secret J.'" Colin read aloud handing it back to Dickon. _

_"Martha thinks its Jennifer Rose…the daughter of Mr. Wrightworth…at the forge." Dickon said putting it in his pocket. _

_"Are you going to write her back?" Colin asked._

_"Dunno…not really interested…"_

_"Yes you are…" Mary said poking his ribs "Dickon and Jennifer sitting on a tree…" she said in her sing song voice, Colin immediately joined in._

_"K-I-S-S-I-N-G…first comes love…then comes marriage…there goes Jenny with a baby carriage!" the cousins yelled, with Colin making kissing noises. _

_"Oh…put a lid on it…"Dickon said shoving Colin playfully. _

_"The two of you would make a lovely couple. Imagine the two of you by the fire place. You're petting the dogs and she's making the horse shoes!" Colin said laughing even harder. Dickon picked up a hand full of snow and splatted it on Colin's face. Mary burst out laughing, and Colin threw some snow back at Dickon. Just as Dickon was about to chuck another snow ball at Colin, Martha entered the garden. _

_"Miss Mary…Master Colin…Lord Craven's calling for tha" Mary and Colin waved good-bye to Dickon as they began to leave the Garden. Colin walked ahead of Mary, so she saw the snow ball whiz past her and hit the back of his head. Mary laughed, and Colin spun around to make an attempt of pelting one right back at Dickon. _

_But Dickon stood there…pretending to be shocked…he turned to Soot and said "Soot! How dare tha?! Throwing the snow ball at Master Colin like that!"_

_Needless to say Martha couldn't stop the three of them from running around, in another snow ball fight. It took a few minutes, to get them to stop. She had Colin walk in front of her to avoid another attack. She stood as sort of a shield._

_"Mary…wait…" Dickon said touching her elbow._

_She turned around and smiled at him. _

_"I have something for thee…" He pulled out a small ball of chocolate wrapped in gold foil "Happy Valentine's Day." He said placing it in her hand._

_Her first Valentine's Day gift. She hugged him and whispered "Happy Valentine's Day, Dickon"_

*************************************

"Do you remember the chocolate, Dickon? When I was twelve…?" Mary asked sliding her fingers through his.

"The Valentine's Day Chocolate….Aye" he said smiling at her. They were sitting under the rock awning, where Colin had taken his first steps. They had spent the morning there, finding the swing too uncomfortable and fearing it would break. The two of them had been sitting in silence for sometime after the kiss. After they said they loved each other.

Dickon took Mary's hand and led her to the awning. And they sat, with Mary in Dickon's arms.

"How did you buy that, Dickon?" she asked pulling away from him to look into his eyes.

"Worked for it…naturally" he said shrugging.

"That was the first gift I got…for Valentine's Day…"

"That was the first gift I gave…for Valentine's Day. The last one as well."

"Really?"

"Aye…I didn't really take an interest in the other girls…"

"You were interested in me?"

"Obviously" Dickon said chuckling.

"I thought…you gave that as a friend"

"I always thought that I'd only be tha's friend" he whispered. Mary smiled and kissed him. It felt so right. Everything about this felt right.

"Even if this didn't happen…you'd always be so much more than my friend" she whispered, when she pulled away from him. Dickon smiled and brushed Mary's hair from her face, kissing her.

The robins watched them from their nest. Singing in jubilation as the two of them finally kissed and shared their love. The squirrels were excited as well. Perhaps their wedding would be in the garden, they gossiped to each other. Everything in the garden seemed happy, basking in Mary and Dickon's love. Why, even the roses seemed to be in a good mood.

"We'll get into so much trouble for this….tha will get in so much trouble." Dickon said suddenly pulling away.

"It will all be worth it." Mary said wrapping her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. Dickon kissed her cheek lightly and whispered "I need to go…work…"

"Alright…" Mary said and was kissed by him once more "I should go to…Martha may have discovered I'm no longer in my room."

Dickon helped her up. And hand in hand they walked to the Garden door. There was hesitation. They knew that once they left the garden, they couldn't hold one another's hand. They couldn't hug each other…kiss each other. The Secret Garden was their sanctuary. They didn't want to leave it just yet.

But they had too. And Dickon shoved his hand in his pockets and walked Mary back to the manor. They bade each other farewell. But before Mary went snuck inside she whispered to Dickon "I still have the chocolate wrapper."

And his eyes sparkled.


	14. 14: An Unexpected Guest

Chapter 14 (The Unexpected Guest)

The gossip was endless in the Misselthwaite estate. Whether they were cooking, gardening, or just cleaning up the house the help couldn't help but whisper to each other the latest of news on this side of Yorkshire.

They're gossip could be about anything. From how a farm wife was having an affair with the son of her best friend to how some unlikely couple ran off to elope. If one calculated the accuracy of their gossip, well you'd be surprised to find out that they were more or less true. Except for some minor exaggerations. Which was natural in gossip.

But the talk of the day was the young American from the previous night. The cook heard that he was a millionaire in America looking for a British wife to take back to his home town. One of the stable boys heard the carriage drivers saying he had some illegal business on the side. And one of the maids, Janey Parker, heard that Lord Craven had invited him over as a suitor for the young Miss Mary.

At the dinner table all these theories on him were shared. The one that they stuck on was the one about him being a suitor. Mary was not a simple lady, they all agreed. Perhaps Lord Craven had realized that Mary wanted something different. Not some wealthy Englishman owning tons of property. But some blueblood American, who owned hectares of farm land back in his country. It makes sense, it makes sense they all agreed.

And he was dreadfully handsome, the maids swooned.

Dickon picked at his food, listening to their gossip. At first he had tried not to. He knew where Mary's affections lay…didn't he?

Well of course he did! She had said that she loved him; there was no doubt in her eyes as she said it. He didn't have to worry about this Julian fellow.

But then again, if Lord Craven were to choose who Mary was to eventually wed he'd have two choices. First, the servant boy from the moor who made his money doing odd jobs around the town. And his other choice would be this wealthy American, with plenty of money to his name. Well, his choice would be obvious, wouldn't it? If Dickon was in his shoes he'd choose Julian Ramsey.

But what if Lord Craven let Mary choose?

Dickon was always a humble person. He never thought too much of himself. Until now at least. Mary would choose him, and there wasn't a single doubt about that.

"Dickon…" Martha said touching his hand "Tha 'asn't touched tha's food."

Dickon just nodded and began eating. He couldn't help but smile reminiscing the time he had with Mary that day. And he couldn't wait for the next morning.

* * *

Mary stood with Colin and her Uncle as they waved the Heedley's carriage good-bye.

"Good-bye!" Mary called out politely "And good riddance…" she muttered so only Colin would hear her.

"You haven't changed one bit, Mary" Colin said to her as they were making their way back to the manor.

"What?" Mary asked.

Lord Craven chuckled "You're a dignified Miss Mary Lennox on the outside, but inside your still Mary Lennox from Misselthwaite wild and unpredictable…and incredibly honest"

Mary smiled. Wild and unpredictable. That much was true. She wouldn't have kissed Dickon back if she were they shy timid creature women were expected to be. It was a new century. A turning point, perhaps women were meat to be more than what men expected of them. After all women served in the war as well. Their contribution was just as important as the soldiers.

After a light lunch she and Colin made their way to the Garden. Colin had been very busy lately and seldom found time to return. Mary walked ahead of him eager to just sit and laze about the Garden in the day's sun. Of course, there was also the thought that someone else may be in the Garden. But of course, if he were there, Colin was with her. Would it be too difficult for them to not hint at their new relationship?

Mary cast Colin a nervous glance. He smiled at her. They had grown up together. Surely Colin might notice the change. She sighed. Maybe they should just tell him. They were best friends. He would understand. He should understand.

"Mary…?" Colin asked. She turned to face him.

"Hmm?"

"It's just…well…I need to speak with you about something."

"About?" Oh no. He knew. He knew and he was going to confront her. To tell her off. Keep calm, she thought to herself, it may be something else.

"Well…" he began. But he never finished. Because just at that moment a cheery voice called to them.

"Goin' for a garden stroll?" They saw Dickon walking up to them. His hands thrust in his pocket and smiling wildly at them.

"Dickon!" Mary called. Colin watched warily as Dickon approached them. His blue eyes flickered momentarily on Mary, then he immediately turned to Colin.

"Wassup?" he asked "I haven' seen tha 'round much."

Colin shrugged "There's a lot to do. Managing the businesses."

" 'Course." Dickon said smiling " I'm sure that won't mind 'elping out with the gardenin'?"

"No, I would not." Colin said.

"Then let's get goin'." Dickon said happily holding out his arm for Mary to take. She smiled at him and took it. Together the two of them made their way to their Garden, with Colin eyeing them suspiciously.

They were in the Garden for a few hours. Colin had forgotten what a joy it was being there. It was their sanctuary. The world or the war wouldn't change that. Being away for so long had somehow magnified its appeal. The flowers in the garden were more colorful than the others he comes across in his travels. Roses looked more beautiful here than anywhere else. Animals seemed more alive when they breathed in the air of the Garden. Of the three friends Colin understood this the most. It was he, invalid and sickly, who was healed by the Garden. By the wonderful power of the Secret Garden and his two friends.

He was watching them now. They were the same, yet different. There were times when their eyes would linger on each other for longer than a second. Or how if their hands met, there seemed to be something electric there. It was so very strange. Perhaps…no. It couldn't be, he thought. They wouldn't be dumb enough. It was getting late, they should head back to the manor. Colin voiced this too his two friends and soon enough they were on their way back to the manor.

There wasn't much talk between the three of them. It was felt awkward, walking back to the manor. Colin spoke up.

"Garden's looking wonderful."

"Yes, it is" Mary said nodding. Dickon just made a muttered something in agreement.

"Perhaps…we should take Father to see it. I'm sure he'd like too." Colin said again glancing at Dickon. He smiled and nodded.

"That's a wonderful idea, Colin." Mary said grinning up at him. Her smile was so different from everyone else's. Mary began chatting about when they could bring him down, maybe they could have a picnic, she said. Waving her hands about excitedly and smiling nonstop. Colin watched her and grinned. She was so very different from everyone.

Then he glanced to his side and saw it. Dickon was watching Mary. His eyes sparkling, a small smile playing on his lips. There it was, written all over his face. Colin wouldn't even have to ask him. There was something painful at the pit of his stomach, something bubbling up. He could've hit Dickon. Right then and there. His hand flinched. His eyes and Dickon's met. Dickon looked away; he looked towards the manor nervously biting his lip. It was no use, Colin already knew.

* * *

Archibald Craven was watching from his study as the three friends approached. He waved at them. They waved back. Mary, enthusiastically, Colin merely raised his hand and Dickon gave a sort of awkward salute. Something was on that boy's mind, he thought.

"Poor boy…" he whispered eyeing Dickon. Dickon and his family had taken care of the Craven's. Martha of course helped with the house. Their mother was a kind friend who had given advice to him on many occasions. And Dickon had breathed life into his son and niece. And eventually, to him. Unlike Colin and Mary, Dickon was used to the toils of life. He had begun working at such a young age to provide for his family. On top of that he had served in the Great War. Craven couldn't even think of any thanks he could reign on Dickon. Words could not express how much he appreciated him.

"Lord Craven?" Martha gingerly opened the door and stuck her head in.

"Hmm?" he asked watching as the farm boy waved his friends good-bye and made his way home…or to some other job.

"There is a Mister Julian Ramsey at the door, sir." She said.

"Oh. Yes. Let him in. Set an extra plate. Call for Mr. Higgins, I wish to greet our guest." Martha nodded and went off. He sighed. Yes, he did feel sorry for doing this; for hurting him. But sometimes, one must realize the sacrifices needed to be made. Even if it against that person's wishes.


	15. 15: Dinner and Dessert

Chapter 15: Dinner and Dessert

The mirror showed something quite horrible, hideous, someone so very distraught. The person's hand twitched, it felt its reflection; running hands over the smooth glass. It was really distorted, the reflection. Was that the reflection? Or how that person saw himself?

* * *

Mary watched Julian from her seat. He was laughing at something her Uncle had said. She glanced at Colin, he was picking at his food. Their eyes met, he smiled at her. He was tired; or he had something on his mind. Colin looked at Julian then at her, he winked. She frowned at him.

Julian wasn't a bad person. In fact he was actually really nice. He wasn't fake; at least she didn't think so. He wasn't stuck up; as she had so far observed.

"Are you staying here, Julian?" Colin asked.

He shook his head. "I'm staying with a family friend."

"Somewhere in town?"

"No actually. It's a little further north. The James family…?"

"Oh, yes." Mary said "We visited them once."

Julian nodded "Mr. James met my father in Oxford."

"You're Father attended Oxford?"

"Well…he taught. Briefly."

"What did he teach?" Colin asked shifting in his seat.

"History."

"Really? What period did he specialize in?" This is what Colin loved. Finding people with a thirst for knowledge. Julian's father, Edwin Ramsey, specialized in South American culture. In fact, Julian had spent most of his childhood in Mexico since his Father was always on the look out for new information on the Aztecs and Mayans. Colin was so absolutely taken away by this information. They had never been to South America. Whenever Julian answered a question, he came up with a new one.

"Is your Father there now? In Mexico?"

Archibald Craven changed the subject "How long will you be staying in England, Mr. Ramsey?" Colin shot his Father an annoyed look, Mary watched Julian. His face had suddenly lost color.

"A few months, Lord Craven…yes, Colin. He's still there." The last part was mumbled and he began to stare at his food. Julian was not so enthusiastic anymore about answering Colin's questions. He began giving short and mumbled answers. Colin eventually stopped asking him, due to the fact that his father began giving him dirty looks and shaking his head at him whenever he asked another question.

As they were finishing dessert, Lord Craven excused himself. Colin took this as an opportunity to ask Julian something else. Mary wished he had never asked.

"What's your father doing now?"

Julian starred at Colin. His large eyes were unfocused, he looked lost and confused. "Well…he's probably…decaying…"

Mary dropped her spoon. Colin's began to open and close his mouth, as though he was forming words to say. Julian shifted in his seat.

"Excuse me…" he mumbled, getting up from his seat and making his way out of the dining hall.

"Oops." Colin whispered.

* * *

Mary found Julian sitting on the steps leading out to the gardens. She approached him slowly.

"Julian…? May I join you?" she asked touching his shoulder gently. He jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Of course." He said, he was standing now. He turned away from her to button the top of his shirt and fix his tie, which he had loosened in order to breathe.

"I'm sorry…that Colin had to bring that up."

"It's alright." He said waving dismissively "He didn't know."

"May I…May I ask what happened?"

He eyed her curiously. "He got sick."

Mary nodded. She didn't expect him to divulge his entire life to her just like that. But to her surprise, he continued.

"There was a plague. Everyone was getting sick. When I got sick my mother, she hated it there said it was too hot, wrote to my father to send me back to America. You see, she lived in Boston. With the rest of her family. My father managed the family bank from Mexico. After all, it paid for his expeditions. Anyway I was sent back there. A year later…we got a letter that my father was taken ill…he passed a few weeks afterwards. I was 12."

"You told Colin he was still in Mexico?"

"He is. His body. In his will he requested that he was to be buried there. He loved the place so much." Julian smiled. "Very passionate man, my father was."

"My parents died when I was ." Julian was watching her. Both of them lost parents to sickness. Granted, Julian still had his mother. But you could tell by his manners he had cared for his father more. Mary was lucky. Sort of. She had never really known her parents. She hadn't really felt at lost when her parents died.

"You were in India?" Julian asked breaking their silence.

"Yes."

They had so much in common it was so very strange. Julian lived most of his life in Mexico with his father. Taking treks in the jungles when he wasn't studying. Mary in India with her parents. Though she had never bonded with her father or mother. She had her aya to look after her. Julian had a private tutor from England, who was also one of his father's assistants. Mary grew up with the natives, as had Julian. Except she had treated them as slaves, he as equals and friends. It was nice, thought Mary, having so much in common with someone.

"Your father, I think he would be proud of you." Mary said smiling at him. He shook his head.

"No…I help run a bank. It's not exactly what he wanted for me."

"What did he want for you?"

"To be happy."

"You're not…?"

Julian sighed "In the long run…no."

Mary took his arm and began to lead him into the Manor. What an absolutely sincere person, she thought. She looked up at him. He was deep in thought. Maybe he still hadn't completely healed from his father's death. It was still his sensitive spot. She knew just what to do.

Colin met them at the entrance hall. Uncle Archie was looking upset. Colin must've told him the course of the conversation after he had left.

"Thank you for dinner, Lord Craven" Julian said politely, shaking his hand. He moved over to Colin and smiled good naturedly. Colin muttered something that sounded like an apology. Julian patted him on the back and said it was alright. He turned to Mary and smiled.

"Good night, Miss Lennox." He said taking her hand, and kissing it.

"Good night, Mr. Ramsey. Will I see you soon?"

He looked a little surprised. "Yes…yes of course."

"Perhaps in the afternoon…?" she said.

He nodded, smiling "As you wish."

* * *

Mary was sitting on the stone bench in the Garden. It was late. After they had said their good-byes to Julian she had snuck off to the Secret Garden. She didn't know why. She just needed to. Her body began to shake. Tears began to flow down her cheeks. She was crying now. Hugging her body which was heaving with sobs.

Dickon's arms closed around her. What was he doing here? Was this some sort of dream?

"Mary…" he whispered into her ear.

"They're…dead…dead…Dickon."

"Who is Mary?" he asked making her face him. "Who's dead?" he asked again.

"My…parents…" she choked out the words. She wailed again and felt more tears streaming down her face. Mary had never cried for her parents. Never had she reflected on the times she might've spent with her parents had they lived. What if they had lived? And they returned to England? Would they have been a happy family? A real family? If her mother was alive would she take her around London to shop? Would her Father shake his head at Dickon? Or would he accept him?

Dickon held her; he kissed her head and stroked her hair until her sobs died down. And she was too tired to move. He carried her back to the Manor, and let her down at the steps. She was going to go inside. She stopped and looked at Dickon.

"Please…please don't ever leave me."

"Mary…" he said taking her head in his hands "I promise…I will never leave tha. I promise" He kissed her forehead and pulled her into a hug. All the while whispering "I promise." She looked up at him.

"I love you."

"I love you." She kissed him. He kissed her. "Get some rest, Miss Mary" he whispered turning her to the door. Before she left, she glanced back at him.

He smiled and put his hand on his heart. "I promise."

* * *

Colin stood at his window and watched Dickon leave. He spun on his heels, he was going to storm downstairs and…and…He froze. The mirror by the door showed something hideous. He walked towards it; his hand twitched he felt the reflection. Tears were streaming down its cheeks; its eyes were a mixture of rage and confusion. It was lost, furious, cold and distant. His reflection showed him all his feelings, it made everything clear.

* * *

**_Hello Everyone._**

**_I hope you're all well. I don't know if you've seen what has happened in the Philippines on the news. If not - there was a storm over the weekend, it overflowed canals and basically dropped a month's worth of rain in roughly 16hours. Most of the National Capital Region (NCR) is flooded. The situation is so bad that our classes were called off for a week in order to re-arrange the cities. Unflood different places, get the cars which floated away back to normal, relocate people who lost their homes, etc. I am not asking for money, or for donations (but if you can I'm pretty sure Red Cross accepts donations) but for prayers. Families lost their homes, belongings, and relatives. My own Algebra teacher lost everything in her Markina home. Please pray for us. As my Economics teacher always tells us "Prayers move mountains"_**

**_Thank you so much. And I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
_**


	16. 16:The Mud

Chapter 16: The Mud

He remembered the mud. The stench of the bodies close together in the trench; the rain dripping down his face mixing with caked dirt, blood and tears. Everything was quiet. He looked around him and saw his comrades. Some stared up at the sky, perhaps expecting some angel to come down and save them. Others had their head bowed in prayer. Dickon could hear them chanting the various he prayers he had been taught, some where just rambling on about their families.

It had been several hours since the last attack. What were they doing there? It was pointless. They'd run out to get to the other side, and then they would just get shot. They would all die. The trench he was in ran for miles on either side of him. At the beginning of they day they had started out with around 100 men. Now there were about 20 of them.

"Sowerby…" a voice called. Dickon turned to his left.

"Parker…" he said nodding. Osmond Parker began shoving something in Dickon's face "Wha's tha' then?" Dickon said.

"Take it" Parker muttered "For my wife. Bring it back to her. Take it."

It was a rosary. "You're not goin' anywhere, Parker. You take it back." He said placing it back in Parker's hand.

"I ain't gonna make it, Dickon. Look at me, I'm an old man. I won't make it."

"You ain't old."

"Take it, Sowerby. Take it. Take it. Take it." Dickon turned toward him and placed the rosary into Parker's pocket.

"You'll make it. We all will."

"No…no...No…please" he was shaking his head; tears were streaming down his face.

"Parker…stop…You'll be the one bringin' this back. I promise" Parker stopped hassling him. He began muttering more prayers; rubbing the rosary in his breast pocket. Their orders had been to breach the city. Not sit around in the trench and slowly go crazy. They had been at it the entire day. They were never going to get there. Dickon closed his eyes and thought of the moors.

The wonderful moors, peaceful and never ending. The smell of heather, the feel of the morning dew on his skin. Everything seemed so far away, everything was so far away. His animals, his family, friends, home. There was the swing in the Garden, Mary was sitting on it, and Colin was pushing. Dickon sat watching them, playing his flute and laughing with them. Mary called to him "Come on, Dickon!" He reached out. It was all beyond his grasp now. He heard the people around him getting ready for another attack. No, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to be in the Garden. With Mary and Colin. Mary's hand was outstretched. He couldn't reach it. They were blurring now.

The large expanse of mud came into his vision. Mud and the numerous bodies of fallen comrades. He could hear bullets whizzing past his head. They were running forward, occasionally dropping to take cover behind a dead body. Dickon aimed, he shot, and he ran again. Tears were running down his cheeks. There were the walls. They were so close. Everyone was yelling. Cries of anguish, of triumph. He wasn't sure.

He saw them running into an abandoned building to his right. He followed them, he slipped, and someone grabbed him and pulled him up. They were all piling into the building now. A grenade went off a few feet from where he was. He heard a scream. Turning around he saw Parker lying on the ground, there was blood all over him, and one of his arms was missing.

Without thinking he ran to him and tried pulling him up.

"C'mon, Parker! Get up!" Parker wailed in pain and began pulling the rosary out of pocket.

"My wife! My wife!" he was waving the rosary in Dickon's face. Dickon couldn't get him up. Parker was yelling and gasping hysterically, pushing the rosary into Dickon's hand.

"Stop it!" Dickon screamed. The battlefield was getting louder, explosions, gunshots, orders being shouted, and cries of pain and terror rose together to make a horrid sort of music. "STOP IT! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Dickon had joined in, pulling Parker up on his feet. He gave one last gasp and went limp. Dickon was shaking his body. "Get up! GET UP! GET UP! NO!" The dead eyes of Osmond Parker starred up at him; Dickon began pounding his chest, willing him to live.

"SOWERBY!" he felt someone tug him by his collar and began half dragging him towards the abandoned building where the rest of the team waited.

"Let me go!" Dickon thrashed around and crawled back to Parker's corpse. The rosary was clutched tightly in his hand "I'm sorry…" Dickon gasped "I'm sorry…"

"Let's go!" he felt himself getting tugged again. Dickon kicked out. "No! Leave me alone!" Many hands were dragging him now, something hit his leg and he yelled in pain. Blood was rushing out of his wound there was nothing he could do to stop it. Steps, he felt himself being dragged up steps. The ground under him was no longer the slopping mud, but cement smeared with dirt.

"LET GO OF ME!" he was able to pull away and was about to run back into the field, when someone banged him up against the wall. "SOWERBY! HEY! HEY!" the man was shaking him violently. He couldn't see anything, tears made his vision blurry and the faces around him were indistinguishable.

"He's gonna die!" Dickon yelled "You're gonna let him die!"

"He's already dead! He's dead!"

"No, he's not! Let go!" Dickon felt the man's hand impact on the side of his face.

"Get a grip!" His cheek was burning, he couldn't breathe. "Get a grip…" the hand let go of him and Dickon sunk to the floor. The terrible music of war had died down once again. Someone was yelling out instructions for their next task.

"You got a wound…" someone had made their way to him and began attending to his leg.

"Leave it…"Dickon muttered.

"Can't do that…we need you up an' runnin' mate"

"It's a graze…leave it…" the medic wasn't listening, he began unpacking gauze.

"I said leave it!" Dickon yelled hitting his hand away from his leg.

The medic starred at him "Yellin' won't bring 'im back. Won't bring no one back." With that the medic began dressing Dickon's leg. Dickon realized that his fist was clenched around something. It was the rosary…

Dickon had been sitting in the Garden that night, reflecting on this when he heard someone stumble through the gate. Who would be in the Garden at this time at night? He heard her sobs and found Mary crying on the bench.

"I promise…" he had told her, he watched her enter the Manor. He had made too many promises. Too many promises for just one person to uphold. There were too many memories stocked in his brain. It was too much sometimes; at times they would all flood into his brain then he couldn't handle it. Everyone has their demons, but sometimes he felt like he had more than the average man.

He was back in the Garden again; he was there almost every night now. Sometimes he wouldn't sleep, and he would just lie on the grass and look into the sky. Stars shone brightly, twinkling so far away. He wished he could go and catch one in his hand; hold it close to him so he would always have its light. Tonight, he chose a spot near the fountain so he could feel the light spray of water on his head. Rolling up his coat and tucking it under his head he settled himself for another night of star gazing.

During the war everything that happened was so very overwhelming. Everything happened too fast, there was never time to breathe. They were always running, shooting, getting wounded, starving. There were times when he wished he had died. He would watch others get shot, get blown up, but he always got out.

Being alive was such an awful thought to him then. But now, breathing in the summer breeze, being alive was the most wonderful thing ever. When Mary had gotten back, things were got better. Things began to become almost normal again. They had changed, both of them had. All three of them had. The changes had been for good, everything that had happened to this point was incredible.

The creaking of the gate broke him away from his thoughts. The gate closed slowly. Was Mary back? He could hear someone coming into the Garden. He got up and faced the entrance. It wasn't Mary. To Dickon's surprise, it was Colin.

"Colin…What's tha' doin' 'ere?" Dickon said. Colin stepped forward, the moonlight on his face scared Dickon. His friend's face was twisted in rage, his cheeks were streaked with tears and his eyes were burning with anger.

"Are you alrigh', Colin? Wha' 'appened?"

"How…could…you…?" Colin gasped, his voice shaking. This was it, Dickon thought, but how…how?

"What…?"

"Mary…You and…and…Mary?"

"I'm sorry, Colin. I'm sorry tha' you 'ad to find out 'owever way you did." Colin didn't say anything, he was shaking. Dickon took a cautious step toward him. "I…I love her, Colin. I love her."

"You…love her…?" he asked. Dickon nodded.

"That's…that's a problem…" Colin said "I love her too". Dickon felt like someone jammed a bucket full of hot coals down his throat. His insides burned with shame and embarrassment, and jealousy. Of course, there was Colin. Colin, who had carefully watched over Mary while they were away from the Manor. The Colin, who was brought back to life by Mary when they were children. Of course, there was Colin.

"I'm sorry…" Dickon whispered again. The next thing Dickon knew was a searing pain where Colin had punched him. Colin was attacking Dickon, kicking him punching him yelling in anger. Dickon was caught up in the moment; he swung his fist and caught Colin in the jaw. That didn't stop his friend. He came at him again. They were wrestling each other now, not like they had when they were children. But like two men caught up over the affections of the same girl.

Neither of them was thinking straight. "You…you sick…disgusting…!" Dickon was on Colin, pressing his head into the ground to stop him from shouting insults at him. "Stop it, Colin! Stop!" Dickon grunted as Colin got him in the stomach again. Dickon was much stronger than Colin, having grown up working in construction and other heavy jobs around the town. The only fighting Colin knew was with words, and some fencing.

"You should've died!" Colin screamed, pulling his arms out of Dickon's grasp and aiming another punch at him. Dickon was too fast, he caught Colin's fist and threw him to the ground. There was a sickening thud. Colin wasn't moving. Dickon crawled up to him; his friend's head was bleeding on the rim of the fountain. He couldn't breathe. He heard Ben Weatherstaff's voice "Th' bloody 'ells goin' on 'ere?!" Colin's shouts must've woken him. He heard a gasp, someone shouted. There were many people behind him. Someone yelled to get a doctor, get the police, and wake Lord Craven.

Dickon pulled Colin into his arms. "Please…please…don't…" Dickon gasped "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…Colin…. Colin? No…no…NO!" He yelled into the night, a cry of anguish, frustration and sorrow. He wished he died too, he wished he was in the dank mud of France dying a slow and painful death.

* * *

_**Hey everyone. **_

_**Thank you so much for the continued prayers. I don't know what it is lately, but I have been writing so much more. More natural disasters around the world now, Vietnam, the Philippines, Samoa. I hope the world can ban together. Make it a better place:) We all have to help each other through these messed up times. **_

_**I have changed the story so much from the original plan. I hope that you enjoyed this...well, it's sad, but anyway I hope you did enjoy it. Reviews as always, please. **_

_**Thank you so very,very much. **_

_**LaLaLahve - Cole:)  
**_


	17. 17: Again torn Away

Chapter 17: Again torn away

Someone was banging on her door. There were shouts. Mary got out of bed and pulled on her robes. She had just gotten to sleep when she heard the loud knocks and shouts from downstairs. What on earth was going on? Was there a fire? Uncle Archie…was he…?

Mary pulled her door open and saw a very distressed Martha. Her face was flushed from running and her hair was out of place, tears had glazed her eyes over.

"Miss Mary…come quickly…" Martha grabbed Mary's hand and pulled her through the hallway.

"Martha…what's the matter?" Martha didn't answer. She didn't answer because Mary's answer was at the foot of the stairs.

Several men were carrying a stretcher up the stairs. Mr. Higgins was rushing after them, her Uncle's doctor, Dr. Evan Grant, was yelling instructions.

"Steady! Keep him steady! Make sure to keep the bandage on!" Dr. Grant was a man of 40; he had dedicated his entire life for science and had started working for the Craven's just before the war broke out. He had left them temporarily in order to serve as a Doctor in the Great War. Mary watched them approach. It wasn't her Uncle. He was there, watching, his head in his hands and his face ghostly white.

"Uncle Archie…what's happened?" she said touching his shoulder. He looked up at her and shook his head. The person on the stretcher came into view. Mary froze, she felt her blood leave her face, Martha held her steady so she wouldn't collapse from the shock.

There was Colin. A tight bandage was wrapped around his head; she could see a red blotch where his forehead was. His handsome face looked like he had gotten in a fight. He had scratches on one side of his face, like someone had rubbed his face on the ground. One of his eyes was swollen, there was a large bruise forming on his jaw and his lip was popped and bleeding. Mary watched in horror as the men carried her beaten cousin past her, they were probably taking him to his room to treat him.

"Martha," Dr. Grant had reached them "Get some bandages ready will you? Get some others helpers and come to Master Colin's room as soon as possible. You understand?" Martha nodded dumbly and jogged down the stairs clutching her baby bump.

"He'll be fine, Lord Craven" Dr. Grant placed a hand encouragingly and nodded to Mary before running of after the men carrying Colin. Mary stood there and watched them turn around a corner, her Uncle followed them. Stronger than usual, pushing the wheels of his chair. Mary stood there, leaning on the banister, watching her Uncle turn into the hallway which lead to her cousin's room.

"Dickon…?! What on earth happened?" she heard Mrs. Medlock's voice from the bottom of the stairs. "Dickon…? Ms. Mary?! Ms. Mary? What's happened?!" Mary turned around and saw her running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was in her night clothes, her rob hastily thrown on and her white hair coming out from under her cap. At the bottom of the stairs was Dickon. Mary starred down at him; just one look at him and she knew what happened.

Mary walked down the stairs, past Mrs. Medlock's questions. Mrs. Medlock stopped as well and watched as Mary approached Dickon. Dickon was pale. In fact, pale was not the word. He was a ghostly white, like Colin when she had first saw him. His lip was swollen; there were a few scratches on his face, and a large bruise forming on his cheek. But what stood out was the blood on his white shirt.

"He knows…?" Mary whispered. Dickon nodded. She felt the tears form in her eyes.

"Did you…?" Mary was shaking "Dickon, did you…?" Dickon let out a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry…" He said pathetically, twisting his shirt and shaking his head. Tears flowed from Mary's face, sobs racked her body. "How could you?" she gasped out. Dickon didn't answer "How could you?!" she screamed at him. Mrs. Medlock began approaching them. Dickon reached out to touch Mary "I'm so sorry…I didn't mean…" Mary batted his hand away, she gave him one last look at ran up the stairs. Up the stairs, down the hallway to her cousin's room. She didn't know how she felt. She was enraged at her cousin, at Colin and Dickon. Why would they fight like that? It wasn't a question of who started it. Colin could be dead. He could die and Dickon would be the one who killed him. Dickon killed Colin. He tried to kill Colin. Sorrow welled up inside her, she felt her heart burn.

Uncle Archie was outside Colin's room, looking into space. He turned to her as she approached and held out a hand to her. She fell to the ground and hugged her Uncle's legs, cried into them. She could feel his hand stroking her head. How could this have possibly happened?

Dickon watched Mary run up the stairs. It was over, finished. Everything he had ever loved was gone from him just like that. He killed Colin, his best mate. And by doing that, he killed his Mary as well. Everything happened so fast. Weatherstaff appearing, the stretchers, nobody minded him. They needed to get Colin somewhere where they could take care of him. If only he had died, if only a bullet had caught him in the heart, or a grenade had landed on him. Colin wouldn't be dying, or dead, Mary wouldn't be angry at him. He wouldn't have torn their family apart.

At this point he didn't know he could still cry. His eyes were searing already, but tears still found their way down his face. Sitting on the bottom step, he pulled his knees around him. Why did this have to happen? He didn't understand. Colin can't die. He just can't. Dickon had helped bring him back to life, why would he be the cause of his death? He should've known better, he watched so many of his friends die. Many friends left him because of the war, and now, two more have left him after it.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up; Mrs. Medlock was taking a seat beside him. He tried to tell her it was an accident that he didn't mean to but no words came to him. She pulled him close to her, in a hug. "Poor boy…" she whispered into Dickon's head. They sat there, like a mother and son. She sat there with him rocking him back and forth as he sobbed for the loss of his two most beloved friends. She sat there with him until the police arrived to take him. She followed them, she watched him climb into the police buggy. He glanced back at her, she smiled encouragingly at him. She watched as the carriage pulled away from the manor. She felt her heartbreak; Mrs. Medlock never had a child. This is what it was like to watch your son march of into war; thinking that he may never come back.


	18. 18: Sunrise

Chapter 18: Sunrise

The sunrise was beautiful that morning. The sky was slowly painted by the brilliant rays of the sun. Dew drops began melting away; the lambs began waking their mothers. A rooster crowed somewhere in the village. Bakers heated up their ovens, farmers began feeding their animals. A mother stretched and opened the windows of her room. The small town began to bustle with life. The rays of the sun brought life to all the people here. They greeted each other "G'ud mornin'!" in their thick Yorkshire accents. The whole town was awake now, there wasn't a cloud in the sky that day, everyone noticed happily.

A large Manor, roughly 30 minutes away from the town, was not bustling with life. Inside, people were silent. Their gossip, if there was any, was quiet and hushed. Once and a while a maid would run into the kitchens asking for more bandages, or tea for the father and cousin. One of the maids had made her way out of the house. Martha Sowerby was watching the road leading to the village. Does her mother know by now? Should she send one of the garden boys to tell her mother? Where was Dickon? What would happen to him? She stroked her belly. She sighed, and made her way back into the Manor.

One of the maids was on her way up the stairs with more tea.

"Give 'em 'ere. I'll take 'em up." She said to her. Martha took the tray and began making her way to Colin Craven's room. There she found Lord Craven and Mary Lennox. Archibald Craven had turned even paler. His eyes were dark from lack of sleep; he smiled sadly at her as she approached. Mary Lennox didn't even look up. She was perched on the edge of a chair someone had brought her; she hadn't acknowledged anyone since last night. Martha placed the tray on a table beside Lord Craven, she watched them both.

The bleeding had stopped, that much she learned. However, Colin had lost a large amount of blood; Dr. Grant was with him the entire night. Just then the doctor poked his head out of Colin's room and saw her. He asked her to come in and help. She followed.

Colin Craven's injuries had worsened through the night. The bruises were more defined; his eye looked larger than ever. He was pale, so very pale, like marble. Like when he was a child. Martha helped the Doctor change his bandages; she saw the large wound stretched across his forehead. She gasped. She had seen it before, but each time, for some strange reason, each time hurt her even more.

"He fell." The doctor said suddenly. Martha looked at him confused. "He fell. The wound isn't too deep. If someone had…banged his head on the stone…he would've died. He fell; I have no doubt about it." The doctor looked at her.

"Wha'…wha' will 'appen to my brother?" she asked.

"I wish I knew…I wish I knew." The doctor said sadly patting her hand.

Someone was at the door. One of the maids bustled out of the kitchen to see who it was.

"I'm here to see Lord Craven, or Miss Lennox? I am a friend of the family. I heard about what happened…last night." The maid nodded and led the man upstairs. He did not need to introduce himself to her; she knew perfectly well who he was. She led him to where Lord Craven and Miss Mary were. Lord Craven was bent over his cup of tea; Miss Mary had gotten out of her chair and was starring at the tapestry.

"Miss Lennox…Lord Crave, a visitor" she said simply. She excused herself and made her way back downstairs. Slowly, so perhaps she may hear some new tidbit of information.

Julian Ramsey was no stranger to tragedy. He stood their, motionless and tried to say something. Anything, anything that may somehow comfort them. Lord Craven didn't mind him; he sat, looking into his teacup. Mary turned to him; her face was twisted in pain and anguish. Before he could say anything, to his surprise she ran to him and threw her arms around him. She sobbed into his coat, he hesitated. Lord Craven looked up in shock, Julian returned the hug. They stood there until Mary's sobs died down and she pulled away. She looked up at him, she bit her lip.

"Excuse me…" she whispered she walked past him, he watched her leave. Maybe she had gone to her room, to get some sleep. He turned to Archibald Craven, who was watching him.

"Lord Craven," he began "I am so terribly sorry…I heard about what happened and I came as soon as I could."

"How? So fast…news travels so fast." Craven said slowly "It just happened a few hours ago. What time is it? Six in the morning?"

"No, sir." Julian said slowly "it's ten past twelve."

"Is it? I hadn't noticed" he looked back into his cup "Please, take a seat" Julian hesitated and sat where Mary had sat through the night.

"I would have expected Master James to accompany you?" asked Lord Craven

"He's out of town, his wife was to come…but she's been ill for the past week. She sends her best wishes, though." Lord Craven watched him cautiously. They were silent for a long time. Julian occasionally tried to start a conversation, but eventually it would die out.

"What was it like?" Lord Craven asked suddenly. Julian looked at him confused.

"Sir?"

"Loosing your father? Never saying good-bye to him?" The old man fixed Julian with a miserable stare, his eyes sparkled with tears. Julian didn't want to answer him. It wouldn't do either of them any good. "Please…tell me…" Lord Craven reached out and touched Julian's hand.

"I…won't lie." Julian whispered "It was the most pain I ever felt in my life." He looked at Archibald Craven; a single tear was flowing down the old man's cheek. Julian knew Lord Craven's history. He had lost his wife when he had gained a son, his son was always sick, but by some miracle, his son was healed. Grief was not new to Lord Craven, but perhaps he had thought that he would no longer have to grieve for a lost family member. Especially for his own son.

"You'll have many more chances to speak with him." Julian continued "I'm sure of it." Just then Mary came out of nowhere, she was dressed in a simple black dress, and her hair was tied into a loose braid. She smiled calmly at them; Julian offered her his chair, she sat down slowly. Doctor Grant's head poked out of Colin's room, "Lord Craven, Miss Lennox? You may come in and see him." Mary pushed Lord Craven into Colin's room, she glanced back at Julian. He smiled and nodded, "I'll just be here." He said.

The curtains of her cousin's room were all closed, the only light was from the lamps scattered around the room. Martha sat in a corner, folding bandages. She looked up at them then went back to her work. Colin lay on his bed, his face swollen now more than ever and tight bandage was wrapped around his head like a turban. Uncle Archie took his son's hand and kissed it. Mary sat on the other side of the bed; she took his hand and held it in hers.

"Arrangements should be made for London." Dr. Grant said suddenly. "He should be taken there for recuperation. After all the hospitals…" Uncle Archie was shaking his head. "No." the old man said "My son will stay here. The moors healed him once, and so they will again." Grant was about to disagree when he found that both Mary and her Uncle fixed him with hard and stubborn glares. Stubbornness was a family trait then. "Very well," he muttered "Martha…let us give them some privacy." With that he and Martha left the room. Mary sat with her Uncle for a few minutes before getting up and saying "I'm going to the Garden." He looked at her questioningly, she hugged him "Someone has to look after it, so it will be ready for when Colin wakes." Her Uncle nodded and she left the room.

Julian was standing, tracing the print of the tapestry with his finger, deep in thought.

"Julian…" Mary said approaching him. He turned to her.

"Is he alright?" he asked.

"Yes, he'll be fine."

"That's good." He replied nodding.

"Yes…Would you like to go for a walk?" he didn't answer, he held out his arm and Mary took it. She led him to the gardens, past the kitchen gardens through the familiar path leading to her sanctuary. They came to the ivy covered wall and gate.

"Shall we go back now?" Julian asked. She looked up at him.

"No…this…well, it's a secret." She said running her hand across the wall "You need to keep it secret." He nodded curiously.

"I'll keep it secret." She smiled at him, reaching through the ivy she felt the gate. The key was still inside and she turned it, she took Julian's hand and led him into the Secret Garden.

"Close your eyes." She said, she turned to him and saw that he placed a hand over his eyes. He was a good sport for not asking too many questions, she thought. She guided him to the middle of the Garden, to the old stump where the immortal friends had often played tag around. "You can look now" she said, she watched him as he removed his hand from his eyes.

She smiled as she watched him stare in astonishment at where he was. His mouth hung open slightly as he turned on the spot taking in the beauty of the Garden. It was more beautiful than ever, perhaps it tried to make up for the fight that happened there just the night before. "It's beautiful" Julian said. Mary nodded and began to make her way around it, Julian followed slowly observing the life which bloomed in the Garden.

There was the fountain, the water hadn't cleaned up the blood on the rim. She looked at the grass around her some of it was flattened, someone's blood was smeared on it.

"Is this…?" Julian said looking around. _Is this where it happened?_ He meant to say. The words escaped him as Mary knelt on the ground and began to scrub the blood of the rim of the fountain with part of her skirt. "Mary…" Julian said kneeling beside her and touching her shoulder. She was muttering something under her breath.

"Why did you do this Dickon? Why? Why?" she said it over and over. "Your fingers, Mary. Stop." Julian said gently taking Mary's hands in his. Her fingers were reddening from rubbing on the stone too hard. Their eyes met, her's with filling with tears "I don't understand." She whispered. He didn't know what she meant, he shook his head "No one understands" he replied. She nodded and looked back down at the blood. He watched her, he watched the tears which crawled down her cheek, soon more followed. Mary was past sobbing, she just let the tears flow down her cheeks, they would stop soon. Julian hesitated, he put his arm around her in comfort. He wouldn't be surprised if she moved away from him. But she didn't; she leaned her head on his shoulder and whispered "I wish I could understand." Julian didn't reply, he just nodded.


	19. 19: The Tragedies of Julian Ramsey

Chapter 19: The Tragedies of Julian Ramsey

Julian C. Ramsey was no stranger to tragedy. He had his fair share growing up, before and after the death of his father. Resting his head on the carriage window he felt the cool of the glass on his face. He had been processing everything he had learned that day. It was all jumbled up in his head, just as everything was beginning to make sense the carriage would lurch, his head would bang on the window and it would all become confusing again. The sun was beginning to set as they arrived into the town. What he was about to do was the right thing, he told himself over and over again.

The cabby stopped in front of one of the larger buildings in the town. The driver opened the door for him and he strode out carefully. "This is it then?" he asked the driver who nodded nervously. "Very good. Just wait here then."

When he opened the door a chubby police marshal looked up from his work curiously. The waiting room was very plain. Wooden benches were lined up against stone walls; some of them were occupied with relatives of prisoners. At the end of the small room was the desk of the police marshal. Julian carefully made his way there and bade the man a good evening.

"Evenin', sir. Wha' can I do for tha?" the man said good-naturedly.

Dickon Sowerby was sitting on the floor of the cell he was occupying. He had been there the entire day, it was torturous. He hadn't gotten word from anyone in Misselthwaite about Colin's condition. His mother had stopped by to visit him, but even she didn't know if he was alright. Bless his sweet mother, she had tried bargaining with the guards to get him free, but they wouldn't budge. She left rather frazzled; telling Dickon that she would be back in the morning with news about Colin's condition. Now he just sat, staring at the blood on his shirt. They hadn't allowed him to change, evidence they said. Evidence of how he murdered his friend. Maybe this was his punishment, stare at your friend's blood knowing that you're the reason he died.

A jingling key broke his thoughts. He looked up and saw one of the police men opening the cage.

"G'ud news, Sowerby. Tha'll 'ave a nice warm bed, t'night." He said. Mary? Had Mary come for him? That was a foolish thought; clearly Mary wanted nothing to do with him. And he couldn't blame her. "I don't understand" Dickon said uncertainly. The man beckoned "C'mon then. A gent just came, an' he wants you out." Dickon climbed to his feet slowly and followed the man. "Carriage out front." He said just before opening the door for Dickon, the door led into the front hall some of the people there looked up at him and whispered to each other as he passed. "Sowerby!" the police man called again, Dickon turned around. He caught his coat from him and nodded his thanks. Pulling on his coat he walked briskly to the front door so he would avoid the stared from the people watching him.

He breathed in deeply when he got outside. It was early in the evening, he could tell. Opening his eyes he saw a horse drawn carriage. A well dressed man roughly his age was pacing back and forth in front of it; the driver of the carriage was leaning on the horse he looked up and made a grunting sound. The pacing man stopped in his tracks and looked up at him. Dickon was confused, this couldn't be right. He had never met this man, maybe they got it wrong. He was about to say this when the man spoke.

"You're Dickon Sowerby?" His accent or lack thereof, gave him away. This must be the American everyone was talking about. What was his name?

"Aye?" Dickon replied. The man strode forward and held out his hand.

"Julian Ramsey." Mary's suitor, Dickon thought. He shook his hand and said.

"Thanks…for gettin' me out of there."

"It wasn't a problem"

"I should be goin'…" Dickon said.

"Wait…please…I'd like to have a word with you. Perhaps over dinner? Have you eaten?" Dickon starred confused at him, "I take your silence as a yes…" Julian said. Dickon sighed; he hadn't eaten because he wasn't hungry. Besides, Dickon was used to not eating for a while. He grew up doing it. But this stranger had just paid him out of jail that struck up his curiosity more than anything. "Sure." Dickon said uncertainly.

Once they were in the carriage Dickon plucked up the courage to ask "Excuse me…sir…"Julian looked at him, he had been staring out the window the entire time, "You can call me Julian…" he said. Never in Dickon's life had someone, aside from Mary and Colin of course, had someone higher in the social chain asked him to call them by their first name. It was new to him and it took him sometime to formulate what he was going to say. "Or…whatever you're comfortable with…" Julian added in cautiously, apparently noticing how odd Dickon found it.

"Ehm…Mister…" Dickon said awkwardly, Julian's lip twitched "…Julian…?" Dickon corrected slowly, this seemed more comfortable to Julian who nodded in acknowledgement. "Beggin' ye pardon…but…wha' exactly's goin' on 'ere?" Julian looked out the window again.

"I'll tell you soon enough" he said. The carriage came to a stop in front of an inn. Dickon looked out the window. He had never been to this inn before. It had just been built a few years ago, it was meant to entertain the wealthy who visited Thwaite village. The driver popped the carriage door open; Julian hopped out and beckoned Dickon to follow. "Keep your coat buttoned up." Julian said turning to him. Dickon followed, realizing that Julian didn't want the blood on Dickon's shirt to be seen. That was a good idea; Dickon didn't want anyone to see the blood either.

The entrance hall was richly decorated, the walls were stained with a dark mahogany color a small gold chandelier hung from the ceiling and the floor was covered with a thick crimson carpet. Julian approached the front desk and began talking to the snooty looking man behind the counter. There was a painting that depicted a garden, Dickon moved closer to it and examined it. He knew this garden; it was the Smith's garden. From time to time Dickon had attended to it; many people said that it was the most beautiful garden on this side of Yorkshire. He smiled lightly; then again no one knew the Secret Garden existed. Their Garden, the three friend's garden, was the most beautiful in the world. Then of course, he had destroyed their friendship. He broke the Magic.

"Dickon…?" Julian was standing behind him. Dickon turned, Julian was looking at the painting as well. "It's a nice painting" he commented dryly, Dickon nodded. "Sirs?" one of the bellhops was striding towards them. "This way please." He muttered. Dickon recognized the young man, and the young man had recognized Dickon. His name was Jim Knott; his family lived near the Sowerbys. They were more acquaintances than friends. Their family had been rich, but then his grandfather had gambled their entire fortune away. And now here was his grandson, working at the local inn for his family when he could be off studying in a University.

They were led down up a flight of stairs and down a corridor; the entire inn was dressed in the same manner as the downstairs lobby. They soon came to a room at the end of the hallway. Ben opened the door for them. Julian tipped him some money and went in first. Dickon hesitated and looked at Jim. The young lad stared back at him and muttered "Tha's innocent, eh?" The news traveled faster than Dickon expected. "No." Dickon said. Jim shook his head and said "I 'oped tha was." Dickon patted his shoulder and followed Julian into the room.

The walls were a light colored wood; the carpet here was a dark blue and paintings of the sea and boats hung from the walls. There was a fireplace and a sofa and two armchairs facing it. A book shelf was off to one side, there were two doors beside it. One led to a bathroom the other to the bedroom of the suite. A round mahogany table was at the end of the room by the windows which looked out into the moors. The table was set for two and there was a soup bowl and another covered dish. Julian was watching him, he gestured to one of the chairs. Dickon hesitated and sat there, Julian was sitting opposite of him.

"Right…" Julian muttered he uncovered the dish; it was roast chicken with potatoes. "Help yourself." he said cheerily. Dickon was confused, what was going on? This was very nice and all but it was strange.

"I don't understand" Dickon said.

Julian sat back in his chair and frowned a little "I guess I should explain before anything…"

Dickon nodded "Tha'd be nice."

"We should eat first" Julian said beginning to cut the chicken "It's a long story, the food might get cold" If this was how it was going to go there was nothing Dickon could do about it. He ate quickly, the soup made him feel better, as did the chicken. The sooner he'd finish the sooner he would understand what on earth was happening here. When they had finished Julian stood up and paced back and forth before taking his seat again and said "Right…well…first things first…you need to know that in no way did Miss Mary Lennox or Lord Craven play a part in this." Dickon was about to ask what he meant when Julian held up his hand and said "I'll tell you everything if you don't interrupt or ask questions until I'm finished, all right?" Dickon nodded, he was getting impatient.

"Colin's doing fine. I visited them this afternoon." Dickon sighed gratefully, he was about to ask about Mary when he remembered that he wasn't supposed to ask questions yet. "Lord Craven and Miss Lennox were so distressed when I arrived. Anyway, I don't know what Mary was thinking…how it would help her or anything…she brought me to a Secret Garden" Dickon felt himself grow cold; Mary had taken Julian to the Secret Garden?

"She told me to keep it secret, which I have and will continue to do, I promise you. Colin's blood hadn't been cleaned, she tried cleaning it herself. She was very lost…in despair I guess. I brought her back to the Manor so she could lie down, calm herself. Lord Craven asked me where we'd gone, 'a garden' I said simply. But then he started talking about his wife, 'she had a garden' he said. I don't need to tell you this because you know it all." Dickon nodded. Lilias Craven had tended the Secret Garden before she had died; the Garden was locked until a curious girl from India came along and brought it back to life. Along with her sick cousin. Dickon remembered it well.

"I found out you were a friend of Colin and Mary's, since you were children. On my way out I came across and old gardener. Ben Weatherstaff?" Dickon nodded again "Yes? He told me that you and Colin were fighting he didn't know what about, only the two of you do." Dickon stiffened in his chair. He couldn't tell Julian why he and Colin had fought. It would cause more trouble. Julian noticed the change in Dickon's stance "I'm not here to ask you why." Dickon sighed "I'm here to help."

Dickon stared confused at the man sitting across him. Why would he want to help Dickon? "Why?" Dickon said.

"Because you didn't mean to hurt your friend. And not everyone knows that. I spoke with some of the maids in the James manor. They seem to think you've gone mad coming from the war. They think you meant to kill him because the Craven's wouldn't pay you."

"Tha's ridiculous!" Dickon said.

"I thought so too. What really happened in that Garden between the two of you is your business. But people are free to speculate whatever they want. The gossip will be endless, and you'll be in the center of it. You wouldn't want that. You need to breathe, the both of you do. You both need to be away from all that…and maybe each other for sometime."

Dickon was getting suspicious."Wha' does tha mean t' say?"

"I mean…you should get out of here for awhile. London, maybe? I'm heading there tomorrow. I wouldn't mind taking you."

"Wha'? I dun see 'ow that'll 'elp. Thanks an' all but…"

"Listen…you probably don't enjoy the city. But a place where no one knows you is what you need."

"An' tha'd know tha'?" Dickon retorted. There was no way he was going to let this person decide what was best for him. He didn't understand…he thought he did…but Julian didn't understand anything.

"Yes." Julian said sadly, he looked out the window again and said "Your situation is familiar to me. That's all."

" 'ow then?" Dickon said stubbornly. Julian looked back at Dickon sadly.

"I grew up in Mexico…until I was 12 that is. A few years before I left my friends and I… we did something stupid. All my friends were natives…on the weekends we'd go around and explore the jungle. One of my best friends…he was always so scared. Whenever we'd go out into the jungle he'd constantly whine that he wanted to go home. One day my other friends and I got sick of it, so we decided to use his fear…as entertainment for us. There was a cave nearby the village. Most of the villagers said it was haunted. One night the bunch of us went into the cave, we were planning on leaving him there. So we did…ran out of the cave with the light and left him there. The next morning he was practically dead."

Dickon shifted in his seat uncomfortably, Julian was staring at him with is large brown eyes. After a moment Julian rose from his seat and began pulling different books down from the shelves, opening one then closing it then returning it to its shelf to take another one. The man had some strange habits. When he was younger he couldn't keep to his seat, there were many times in private school when he was scolded for standing up and pacing about the room in order to answer an arithmetic equation in an exam. The feeling of blood rushing through his body let him think more. Which is what he was doing. One of Dickon's strong points was figuring people, and animals and plants, out. He was trusted by everybody in Thwaite village and every animal out in the moor. By this point he realized that this is what Julian did when he was deep in thought. Colin would close his eyes and raise his head to the sky; Mary would crinkle her forehead. Eventually Julian stopped and sat himself down on one of the arm chairs.

"I'm sorry." Dickon said. "Tha was but a child…"

"That really didn't make me feel any better about it" Julian chuckled. "My point is" he continued "You need to breathe, take time away maybe. I won't push London at you or anything. It's all your choice." Julian rose from his seat and continued "You can stay here for the night…or I could drop you off wherever you live." He began buttoning his coat and heading for the door. Dickon stood and began to follow him.

"Wait up, Julian" Dickon said approaching him. Julian turned to him. "Why? I still don't understand why tha would do this for me."

"My father always used to say 'There's no point to life is you just use it for yourself.'"

"London doesn't sound tha' bad…" Dickon muttered placing his hand in his pocket.

"Really?"

Dickon nodded and said "Aye…I must return something t' a body there" his fingers felt the solid wood of Osmond Parker's rosary.


	20. 20: Awakening

Chapter 20: Awakening

There is a very popular story of the country mouse and the city mouse. Everyone is familiar with the tale of the two friends who just cannot find themselves comfortable in their other friends home. Being away from ones home is very difficult. Going from the endless moors of Yorkshire to the compact city of London is large change. Where life is easy going simple in one place, in the other it is quick and harsh. There were hardly any indicators that the Great War happened in Yorkshire, except for the memorials being built, but in London reminders of this battle was everywhere.

Neither Dickon Sowerby nor Julian Ramsey were city mice. Both of them found comfort in a more secluded and peaceful area. Dickon on his vast moorlands had only been separated from them because of the War. Julian had been separated from the coast side village he had grown up in for almost eight years.

It was a rainy afternoon when they had arrived having left from Thwaite station early in the morning, the first train out. Dickon tried to peer out of the automobile they were in, the rain was heavy but he could still see people hurrying about with their umbrellas. The night before Dickon chose to stay in the suite, he had left for their cottage before sunrise to tell his mother where he was going and to get clothes for himself. She didn't detest, she just gave him a huge kiss and told him to be safe. She had also promised that she would check on Colin and make sure he was well.

He glanced beside him where Julian sat, hugging his coat around him tightly frowning out the window. "That doesn't enjoy the cold." Dickon said suddenly. Julian smiled and shrugged "Haven't gotten used to it."

"Is it not cold in America?" Dickon asked.

"Yes, it can get very cold. But I just never liked it."

Dickon peered out the window again, they were caught in traffic. Several other automobiles were around them and the intersection in front of them was blocked of by a horse that had tripped and spilled its load all over the street. The owner and a few other men were struggling to clean up the mess. There weren't many automobiles around Thwaite, in fact Dickon only knew of three or four families who owned one. Though the Cravens were one of the most well off families Lord Archibald much preferred the carriages.

A slumped figure leaning on the wall caught Dickon's attention. Staring closer, through the thick sheet of glass and the heavy down pour of rain, he noticed the familiar clothes of the man. Without thinking he threw open the door and stepped out towards him. He heard Julian yell after him, but he didn't stop.

Leaning against a store was a man in an army uniform. His hair was overgrown, his complexion pale and sick there were two stumps where his legs should've been. He looked up at Dickon; his eyes were lost and glazed over. He took a cup beside him and lifted it to Dickon "Please sir…help me sir…have mercy sir." There wasn't a single coin in his pitiful cup. Reminders of the war were everywhere in London. The men who were forgotten because of their injuries, the families who starved because of the loss of their breadwinners, women who worked to feed their children after their fathers were gone. Soon Julian was beside him, standing in the rain. "Not a single soul sees him." Dickon muttered to Julian, out of the corner of his eye he saw Julian reach into his coat for his wallet. A horn blared, the road was clear again except for Julian's automobile which was blocking several others behind him.

Julian had just pulled out his wallet when he saw Dickon easily carry the man. "Dickon, what are you-" he wasn't able to finish. He followed Dickon and watched him slide the man into the car. "The man's sick" Dickon said simply about to climb in after the soldier. "But-" Julian stammered as another horn blared and a man stuck his head out of the automobile to yell at them. Julian grabbed Dickon arm and said "We can't possibly-" Dickon just smiled sadly and said "There's no point to life is you just use it for yourself."

The words hit him hard and he nodded solemnly. Dickon climbed into the car and before Julian followed another driver poked his head out and yelled several rude remarks toward them. He was about to reply when he felt Dickon's hand tug his coat, he sighed and climbed into the car.

"The house still, sir?" the driver asked.

"Yes." Julian said.

"Bless you…" he heard the weak man say.

Madame Buecroft shuffled the teacups around one last time. She heard the doorbell ring; rushing out to the greeting hall she adjusted her cap and answered the door. She opened the door expecting to see the master of the house, but instead a tall man walked past her carrying another man in a soldier's uniform.

"What…what is this?" she said panicky with her thick French accent. The master of the house strode past her telling the first man who came in, "Upstairs…first room on the left."

"Monsieur Julian." She said grabbing Julian's sleeve before he too ran up the stairs without a word. _"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?"_

"Later. I'll explain later. Prepare some medicines and warm water. The soldier is very sick. Please, hurry. If you can, call a doctor. Fetch some towels as well." With that he ran up the stairs. She sighed and went into the kitchen to pass the orders on to one of the maids.

Once all the materials were gathered she climbed up the stairs and entered the guest bedroom. Master Julian was sitting on the far end of the room, and the one stranger was standing awkwardly by the window. The soldier lay on the bed; she could see that he was very sick indeed.

"The doctor is on his way." She said handing Monsieur Julian his towel she approached the other man. He had chestnut brown hair and clear blue eyes, she handed him a towel, and he smiled gratefully at her.

"Thank you." Julian murmured, wrapping the towel around his shoulders "Madame Buecroft, this is Dickon Sowerby. He's a friend from Yorkshire."

Dickon nodded shyly and twisted the towel in his hands. "Very pleased to meet you Monsieur." She said "Come then, the two of you. You need to get dry. I will show you to your room Monsieur." she said tapping Dickon's sleeve.

Dickon glanced nervously at Julian who was already on his way out. He followed him. Madame Buecroft led Dickon into a room just across the one they were in. Julian strode into another room deep in thought, without even looking at Dickon.

"I had the driver put your bag up." She saw how uncomfortable he looked when she spoke to him, had he been in the War? Had he been in France? "You have your own bath in this room, the water is warm. You shall be called for lunch when it is ready." He said thank you to her. She smiled at him and just before she left she turned to him and said.

_"Parlez-vous francais?"_ He watcher her with a puzzled expression.

_"Qui…"_ he muttered awkwardly "_un peu"_

"You were in the war?" his handsome face fell.

"Yes."

She nodded somberly "You have a strong heart."

"Thank you." He turned away from her. She slowly closed the door behind her. Dickon looked out of the window. It was facing the street of London, the rain had gotten heavier. He tried peering through it, the thick glass, the strong water, and the buildings. Perhaps, if he stared hard enough he could see Misselthwaite. It was a foolish thought. Foolish as it was he couldn't help but wonder what was happening back in Yorkshire.

The world around him was windy; everything around him was a swirling mass. Pulling himself up, opening his eyes was in itself a mighty feet. He heard shrill screams and looking around him he realized why.

* * *

Stretched out before him was a vast wasteland, he couldn't see the end of it. But around him were people being thrown around in a vicious whirlwind. He stared at them and watched as some of them screamed out. Turning to his side he saw an old man standing beside him; his long beard being blown by the wind.

"Where am I?" Colin gasped. The man looked at him coolly.

"You are in Hell."

"I'm dead?" he said, he felt his body. No, he couldn't be dead, he still felt alive.

"You are alive. You are visiting." Suddenly the old man pointed upward. Colin followed his gaze and saw two people he knew very well. "You two shades, come down!" The old man yelled "Your friend wishes to see you!"

Mary and Dickon. They stopped in front of them. Mary and Dickon, and yet they weren't. They're faces were drawn, their eyes devoid of life. Even Dickon's light eyes looked gone and dead.

"What is this?!" Colin said "Where am I?! What's going on?"

"You are with us now, cousin." Mary said, her mouth forming a sad smile.

"Tha's been judged" Dickon choked out.

"Judged?!"

"To forever whirl in torment." The old man supplied "For in life the three of you were thrown around in passion, so in death you shall be." With that Mary and Dickon flew off again, into the massive tornado. Colin felt himself get swept off his feet; the old man grabbed his arm and pulled him down. "Not yet. Not yet. You must wake first. Not yet."

"I'm sorry." He heard. He felt a tear fall on his cheek. He had to force himself to open his eyes. Mary was sitting by his bed, her face teary.

"Mary…" he managed to whisper. She looked at him, shocked and confused.

"Oh, Colin." She gasped and took his hand. "Please, please forgive me."

For a moment he had no clue of what she was talking about. Then he felt the pain in his head and it all returned to him. Their kiss, the garden, the fight. He pulled his hand away from her. "I can't believe you."

"Colin, you don't understand. Let me explain…" she cried.

He turned his head away from her "I don't want to see you."

"Please." She sounded pitiful.

"Get out."

"Colin…" she said sadly, trying to reach out to touch him. He moved away from her and found the strength to shout "I said get out!" She stared back at him, horrified. She stood up and strode towards the door, but before she left she said "I love him. There was nothing I could do. I love him."

Colin turned to her. Her eyes were sore because tears and exhaustion, her hair was undone and messy. "That's why it hurts." Colin said, looking away from her. He heard the door close behind him. Laying in the darkness of his bedroom he once again felt like a child. A child who had been abandoned by his only friend to go see an 'angel'. It was no longer his cousin who had abandoned him this time, it was also the 'angel' that she had run off to see.

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**Phew:) Another chapter. Exam week has dawned but I couldn't concentrate because I knew I needed to write something and here it is:)**

**Hmm:) If I screwed up the French bit, I am really sorry about that. Colin's dream is derived from Dante Alighieri's 'Inferno' ( Second Circle : The Carnal) and the old dude is Virgil. **

**Yeah, well that's all for now. I'm hoping that I can get another chapter up by the end of this week, or next week. I hope I can find time to write. I can no longer sleep at night since my mind is always whirling on new ideas for stories and such. Anyway, enjoy! And reviews as always please:)  
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	21. 21: Where the flames scorch

Chapter 21: Where the flames scorch

Mary sat by her window and watched the rain splatter against the glass. The wind howling loudly, wuthering. That's what she was told it was called when she had first arrived at the manor as a child. It had been almost a week since the accident, and she hadn't heard from Dickon or Colin. Colin still refused to see her and Martha had told her that Dickon had gone off to London. She hated him for that. For just leaving without telling her, abandoning her. That's what she told herself, anyway.

Colin's anger was unmoving. She had been afraid that he would tell his father of her, however brief, affair with Dickon. If her uncle had found out he would've mentioned it by now to her. He would've called her to his study and perhaps scolded her. But he hadn't. So he must've kept it a secret.

She heard the door of her room open and Martha poked her head it "Master Colin… 'as finally called for tha." Mary nodded and said she would be coming. She got up and fixed her hair, and left her room. Walking towards Colin's room she thought nervously of what he might say to her, of how he would reprimand her.

Colin's room smelt of cinnamon and was as dark as it was the week before. He was no longer in his bed, but sat at the far end of the room by the fireplace, which was lit and gave the room a somber glow. He looked up at her and waved her in. "Please, Mary. Sit." His voice sounded strained and tired.

As she sat she looked him over, his complexion was just as pale as it had been when he was a child, the bandage had just been removed the morning before and she could see the stitches were his wound was. He caught her glance "You see what your angel Dickon did?" he said as acidly as he could.

Mary stiffened in her chair "He didn't mean it. You know that." Colin snorted, upset. "I should tell my father. I should tell him about how you went behind our backs. How after all we've done for you, you're willing to embarrass us with your…your…infatuation with a gardener."

She felt her blood begin to boil "He's not just a gardener, he's your friend."

"He was my friend. Do you think that's what everyone else will see? No, they'll see a dirt poor gardener who's been working all his life for his dirt poor family of fourteen. That's what they'll see."

"What they see doesn't matter" she gasped, holding back the urge to yell at him.

"Doesn't it? Don't you understand how hard my father has worked for his reputation? Don't you see what this will do to him? Or don't you care?"

"Of course I care. But I won't just marry anyone for the sake of his reputation."

"You don't have to marry just anyone…you can marry-"

"You?" her voice shook with anger "You mean I can marry you."

Colin frowned "Yes. It would be better than marrying a gardener."

"It always has to be you, hasn't it? You who has to be happy? And content? What about me? What about Dickon? Don't we matter?" Colin didn't answer. She continued her voice filled with a choked up emotion "You think you're so great studying in your University. Well you're nothing, you're nothing but a spoiled, sniveling little boy throwing a tantrum because he can't get what he wants. Well, I am not just a toy to be bargained for…and Dickon is not just a child you fought in a playground. He may be born a commoner and…and dirt poor…but he's more of a respectable person you'll ever be."

"People respect me." Colin snapped back, his fist clenched tightly.

"Do they? Do they? The people respect you for your name, not for who you are. No one cares about who you are, all that matters is your name. Do you honestly think your friends are really your friends? Or do they just tag along with you so people know they're just as rich you? Dickon, people really respect him. People really admire him, because he's done more with his life than you can ever do with yours!" She was on her feet now.

"You speak of his as though he's some saint from Heaven…" Colin said "But you fail to realize that he's no saint." Colin rose to face Mary, the pain in his head forgotten "He's killed people, Mary. He's held a gun and fired. He's killed fathers and sons and uncles. You think he's a simple victim of war. Ha! He's hurt just as much as he was hurt. You're so naive Mary; do you think he spent the war alone? Do you know what soldiers do when they're bored, Mary? They go off and look for whores!" Mary slapped Colin full on the face; the sound echoed in the room, Colin's cheek was burning red. They stood in silence, Mary glaring at Colin, Colin glaring right back at her. Without another word she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, tears streaking down her face.

Colin watched her leave, heard her slam the door with a loud bang. He touched his burning cheek; he went to his desk and found the photograph he was looking for. It was taken by his father, a few days after he had discovered his son walking. Three young faces smiled up at him, innocent in youth. He walked to the fire and without hesitation threw it in. Colin stood there, watching their friendship burn.

"Dickon! You've no idea who I met today." Julian strode into the living room and found Dickon seated by the fire. His wet cloak dripped on the carpet, one of the maids hurried in after him and began helping him remove it.

"Well I was in one of my colleague's homes; we were discussing setting up a branch of my family's bank up here as we have been for months-years actually. It's a lot more complicated than I planned it, much more shifting and more money is involved- anyway. Just then his maid comes in to bring tea, and after she leaves he goes 'Poor lady' and I ask him why and he says…he says…" Julian had seated himself opposite Dickon, who hadn't looked up from the fire the entire time.

Other things were clearly on his mind. Without looking up Dickon said "He's dead." Julian shifted uncomfortably "You mean Marcus?" Then Dickon looked at him, he looked annoyed, irritated "Yes, yes, Marcus. Who else?" Dickon rose from his chair and walked to the other end of the room. Julian watched him, perhaps Colin, was what Julian had thought at the back of his mind. Marcus Johnson was the soldier they had picked up from the street. The doctor had been optimistic about his condition, a week had past and he seemed to be getting better. But life is so very unpredictable.

"Just now?" Julian whispered. Dickon nodded "A few hours ago. The doctor was 'ere when it 'appened. He just…stopped breathing. We should…see if he's got any family." Julian nodded "He's at the morgue, then?" it seemed inappropriate but, Julian didn't like the thought of a dead person in the house. "Doctor took 'im. Says just ring 'im to make arrangements."

"Dickon, I'm sorry." He said pathetically.

"It's one less person suffering." Dickon answered.

"I'll see what I can do about finding his family. In the meantime…there's another family who could use some help." Dickon looked at him curiously. "What I was saying earlier, did you catch it?" Dickon nodded slowly, as if trying to remember "Aye" he said "Something about a maid…"

Julian stood and nodded "Her husband died in the war."

"Lots of husbands died in the war."

"His name was Osmond Parker." Dickon stared at him in astonishment "I was invited to have dinner with them tonight." Julian continued "Put on your best suit, Dickon. We're about to enter one of the classiest shark tanks."

* * *

**It's a lot shorter than I planned:/ I need to do some research before I can post more, research for the story.**

**Reviews as always please:D They would make me so very happy:)  
**


	22. 22:A Storm and a Shark Tank

Chapter 22: A Storm and a Shark Tank

The rain hurt, the rain soothed, the rain blinded. The wind whipped her hair back wildly as she stared up at the swaying branches of the trees. She had never been to the Garden during a storm. She would've never gone out during a storm. Mary lay down on the wet grass, the splatter of the rain stung her face. But the cool of the water calmed her. She could hardly open her eyes without getting water splashed in them so she closed her eyes and lay on her side.

It was awhile before the tears had stopped. Rain drops were her new tears. She chuckled silently to herself. Had she ever thought of Colin of her husband? Of course not. He was her cousin. Something seemed so very wrong with the notion of marrying your cousin. Why couldn't he see that? But then, maybe she should. Maybe it would make everything better. Make everything easier. However, if she were to make things easier, wouldn't it be better if she married outside of her circle of friends? Neither Colin or Dickon. Gavin Heedley? She laughed loudly once more, placing her hand over her mouth. She lay on the wet grass and laughed wildly. Perhaps Mistress Mary had been driven mad. She opened her eyes and shouted "What now?" the rain got into her eyes; the wind grew stronger and blew her hair back.

She stood slowly, fighting the wind, and made her way to the fountain. She stared down at her distorted reflection. All she could see when she closed her eyes was the blue Yorkshire sky. The calming, lively blue eyes of the charmer of animals. She hugged herself, and closed her eyes, hoping to see the cool blue of the sky. But the sky changed, his round sky eyes changed. The pool was disturbed by a drop of grey. It came out of nowhere. The blue mixed with the new color, as paint does. They swirled together, creating a gale. The grey tried to wash the blue away as a storm does to the calm sky. Then the colors changed once more. They formed together, blended together. The raging storm ceased and settled, shimmering brown eyes stared back at her. They knew of sadness and joy, triumph and disappointment.

Her eyes snapped open and she rubbed them. "You can be so confusing." She muttered sourly to no one in particular. The wind responded and whipped at her face once more, urging her to return to the Manor. "No thank you." She said, making her way under the garden awning "I'll just sit here."

* * *

Dickon glanced out of the window. The rain had been non-stop since the morning. He smiled inwardly to himself, when the storm would clear the moors would be as wonderful as ever. Julian was rubbing his hands together, pulling his coat tightly around him.

"Isn't it summer here?" he asked.

Dickon nodded "Aye, but this is England. It always rains."

"Don't you find it depressing?"

"Nah. One has to remember tha after the storm, the sky is as clear as ever." Julian looked at him curiously; Dickon had been awfully quiet since the passing of the wounded soldier. But there was something about him that was so strange, in an interesting way. He wasn't trained to talk, like everyone seemed to be. He just was.

"Tha is just like Miss Mary." Dickon said suddenly.

"How so?"

"Tha's dreading this."

Julian chuckled "It's all so rehearsed, Dickon. You get bored of it."

"Really?"

"Really. When you're there you wonder 'What's the point?' to this day I don't see the point. It'll be different from the ones in the country, in Yorkshire."

"How?"

"It won't be as lavish. As old fashioned. The city isn't far from reality."

"Which is the War?"

"Which is the War." Julian agreed sadly looking out of the window once more. Soon the home of his business colleague, Edward Grey, loomed before them. "This is it." Julian muttered. Julian climbed out of the automobile, and Dickon followed him curiously staring at his surroundings. "It's just a small dinner party. There's nothing to worry about" Julian said, Dickon smiled to himself. Julian seemed to be assuring himself, passing it off as reassuring Dickon.

A tall skinny man opened the door for them "Ah, Mister Ramsey. Master Grey was wondering when you would arrive. Please…" He led them past the hallway and into a sitting room. Several people were seated here.

"Julian, we've been waiting for you." A tall broad shouldered man with a neatly trimmed beard approached them.

"Mr. Grey." Julian said shaking his hand "This is a friend of mine, Dickon Sowerby. Dickon, this is Mister Edward Grey." Dickon shook his hand. Julian then proceeded to introduce the other people in the room. Misses Wilhemina Grey was just as tall and broad shouldered as her husband, her grey hair pulled back making her face look stretched out. Their daughter, Grace Grey, with large green grey eyes and very haughty features. There was tall and mouse looking Professor Hans Schwartzman, a German Professor who taught Classics at the University of London and his British wife Elizabeth Schwartzman. And a round American, Brandon Smith, though his face was very happy looking he had a very serious demeanor.

"Dickon…what an interesting name." Commented Mrs. Schwartzman.

"Thank you…" Dickon said when they were all introduced and seated.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure."

"It sounds German." Said the Grey's daughter "Is it German, Professor?"

The mousy Professor adjusted his spectacles and replied in a thick German accent "Yes, I believe I have heard that name. It comes from Richard…I believe."

"I suppose." Dickon said uneasily.

"And what does Richard mean, Professor?" asked Grace Grey. The Professor smiled widely and adjusted his spectacles again. "It means 'Strong Ruler'" Julian said, suddenly, all eyes turned to him. The Professor looked taken aback, his moment of intelligence stolen from him. "What do you do, Mr. Ramsey?" he asked.

"I run a bank, Professor."

"Oh, yes. In fact, Mr. Ramsey and I are working on moving the bank here. You see-" Edward Grey put in, happy to talk about his investment with the young intelligent American blue blood.

"It was your father's was it not?" interjected the Professor.

"Yes, it was."

"He studied history, yes? A historian running a bank…it's very different."

"What one studies in a University will not define his life."

"Indeed. And what did you study?"

"Business, Harvard."

"Harvard, I was informed you attended…that Jesuit school." said Mrs. Grey.

"Georgetown" Supplied Mr. Brandon Smith.

"Yes, that one." Said Mrs. Grey

"I went there for Preparatory School. I attended the College itself for a short time."

"Did you study business there? Before Harvard?" asked Mrs. Grey, thrilled at the prospect of the educated young man being her son-in-law.

"No, I did not. I studied Theology, for a short time." The Professor gave a snort of amusement. "You find the prospect of God funny, Professor?" asked Julian with a hint of annoyance.

"I find the prospect of studying God in a University funny. Go to the Church on Sundays." He said chuckling.

"I find the prospect of studying the ideas of long dead Greek men funny." Julian retorted calmly "Teaching it is even more ridiculous." The Professor stiffened in his seat, ready to defend his subject against this attack. "Let me tell you something the Jesuits failed to inform you, these ideas have lead to the modern ideas we have now. Maths, Sciences, Religion, and common morale come from the brilliance of the men of Classic Greece."

"And what would the brilliant men of Classic Greece say about the uncalled for and sudden invasion of what is clear neutral territory?" The entire room, except the two debaters, froze. The German Professor's face darkened. Julian smirked. "Tell me, Professor," continued Julian "Where were you in the War? Cowering behind your Philosophy books…memorizing old lines of Aristotle or Ptolemy? Testing students on the Iliad? Or perhaps assisting your country in one of the Greats of the World, horrible though it was."

"What you're implying is preposterous, and does not stand" said the Professor, his face burning red. His wife fanned herself nervously. "What I'm implying has a solid foundation. Convenient, your son being in Germany at the time. You must've written him many informative letters."

"The content of which is private." Julian was about to say something else when Mister Grey stood suddenly "Enough. Enough I say! I will not have talk of this in my house. "He sat back down slowly, fixing his suit. "Now…Mister Smith and I were just discussing his horses, are they for competition?" Mister Smith took a moment to reply, still engrossed in the prior discussion. "Oh, right…yeah…" Said Mister Smith, scratching his chin "Race horses. Sort of a hobby…" He began bantering on about his prize stallions and thoroughbreds. Dickon was listening intently when he felt Julian nudge him. He looked at Julian whose eyes flickered towards the door which lead to the hallway. He then mouthed "Kitchen…" Dickon nodded and excused himself.

He made his way through the hallway. Finding the kitchen was easy enough, Julian had told him where to go on the ride there. He had also mentioned that the butler would be standing outside, having a smoke before having to announce dinner.

Dickon knocked on the kitchen door. It was answered by a plump old lady "I told you dinner-oh-Sir, beg your pardon sir. How can I help? Is there anything you need?"

"Yes…I'm looking for Becky Parker."

"Is she in trouble sir? Becky's a good person, sir."

"No, I just…I need to return something to her." The maid raised her eyebrows curiously. "I'll call her, sir….Becky? Becky?" she called into the kitchen "Just a moment, sir" After several moments the door opened once more and a middle aged lady with dark blue eyes emerged, adjusting her cap. "How can I help you, sir?"

"Mrs. Parker?" Dickon asked nervously.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dickon Sowerby…I…I served in the war….with your husband."

"Oh…"

"Please…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened" his voice was trembling "I needed to…to return something to you. He asked me to…" he reached into his pocket and pulled the wooden rosary out of his pocket. She stared at it and took it into her hands. Her lip began to tremble, and soon tears were running down her face. Dickon touched her shoulder gently "He thought only of you." She looked up at him and whispered "Bless you." Before hugging him tightly.

Just then Mister Edward Grey and his guests had walked into the dining room. None of them expected to see one of the guests comforting a sobbing maid who was clutching a wooden Rosary. Julian smiled and said "Well, look at that Professor. The Rosary is worthwhile. " And Professor Schwartzman snorted.

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**Hi all:) Reviews as always pleasepleaseplease:) Sort of a motivation for me to keep writing. **


	23. 23: The Piercing Foil

Chapter 23: The Piercing Foil

When they were children, Colin had left the Manor a year earlier than Mary. For the first decade of his life was spent bedridden, and he was over the moon about going out into the world which he had so often read about. His father had sent him to a school just within London so he would be able to experience the school and city life he never had the chance to experience.

He had tried as many school activities as possible. Trying to find his very own niche in the world had become harder than he thought. Adjusting to the boys in his class was hard. They were not like Mary or Dickon. But he worked hard. And soon found himself constantly flocked by them. Asking for advice, tutoring in mathematics or science. He never admitted it, nor did he have to, but he loved every bit of it.

When Mary had come to London he soon found the attention had gone from his lively scholastic performance to his wild, eccentric and pretty cousin. The boys always asked him about her; and Mary's girls always asked about him. When they would meet up on Saturdays they would laugh about it. It was a joke to them. Sometimes, there would be a boy or girl who would catch their attention. Though only momentarily. The affections never lasted very long.

In June of 1914 their uncle had the brilliant idea of taking them around the globe, as he usually would during their summer holidays. Their last summer holiday was spent, much to Colin's delight, in Egypt. But that summer Lord Craven thought of taking them so very far away from where they usually went. They took the journey across the ocean to America. They stayed in bustling New York City, visited Archibald Craven's acquaintances in Boston and Rhode Island.

And they stayed there throughout the Great War. Watching from a far the struggles in their country. Colin wanted to leave and apply for military service; Mary wanted to be a nurse. But Lord Craven, fearing for their lives, kept them close. Their education was continued by a private tutor, who had originally hailed from England. After the War Colin had gone ahead, in the summer of 1919, accompanied by their tutor to enroll in University. Mary followed a year later.

While in America Colin found time to engage in more sports. Though he excelled in the usual ones such as cricket and football, his skill was in fencing. He started fencing in London, in America he had continued it. He liked the feeling as he parried, beat, and attacked his opponent. After training everyday, for two months straight he had never lost a match.

It had been a more than a week since his fight with Dickon. Colin stood in one of the gardens, pulling his mask down on his face and began practicing his attacks. There was no one to spar with. So he imagined his opponent, poised and ready to strike. The make believe opponent moved first, Colin blocked him. It went on like this for several minutes. Naturally Colin would win, it was in his mind. In his mind, he could do anything.

In his mind Mary and him would get married. In his mind they would live in the Manor happily for the rest of their lives. Dickon would stay with them. Dickon wouldn't betray him with his love for Mary. Because Dickon wouldn't love Mary. He would love some village girl. Colin swung around and jabbed at a bush. Another win.

The sweat and the heat of the day made his head throb. He pulled off his mask and ran his fingers over his head wound; now scabbing. He looked to the left, the fountain spewing out water. He made his way to the water and splashed his face. The cool water washed away the hot sweat that had encased his face.

"Colin, we have to talk" Colin looked up and saw Mary standing several steps away from him. She wore her pale summer dress; her hair in a lose bun. "About what?" Colin asked, looking back into the water.

"You know perfectly well." Mary snorted.

"Fine. I hate Dickon." Colin said splashing the water.

"Do you hate me as well?"

Colin paused. "Not yet, no."

"Not yet?"

"You can still fix it."

"But I don't want to. Not in that way."

"Well then…let me go on hating Dickon and being mad at you." He began making his way back to the pile of fencing equipment. Mary strode forward and grabbed his arm. "We're not children anymore, Colin. You can't just walk away from these…arguments."

"Watch me." Said Colin pulling his arm out of her grasp. She strode in front of him glaring at him. "No, Colin. You have to understand-"

"No, Mary. You have to understand. You can't be with Dickon. Not just because of me. Because he's our servant. Because he lives on the money we give him."

"The money given to him because of his work"

"But he still works for us, Mary. He's still a commoner."

"It's 1920! No one cares about classes anymore."

"Maybe they say so…but that isn't true and you know that. He's our servant, Mary. Remember that."

"He's also our friend."

"Maybe yours" Mary's lip was shaking, she bit it, holding back her tears.

"He was your friend too." She managed to say.

"Before…when I had no choice."

"But-"

"Mary listen to me, he is our servant. He attends to our garden and horses. He cleans their stables and mixes the manure with soil to make fertilizer. He trims the bushes and trees. He can barely read and he can barely write. He probably can't do math. You can do better than that. You deserve better than that. If not me, then please someone better off in life, someone who can actually provide for you. Please, Mary." He had taken her hands. "Please, Mary." She pulled her hands away, turned on her heel and began making her way back to the Manor.

He watched her leave. His chest hurt. Colin took up his mask and foil and began to jab at his imaginary opponents. It was then that he was grateful for the mask which covered his opponent's face. Otherwise he would have seen the sickening blue eyes of Dickon Sowerby. The imaginary opponent lunged forward. Damn. Colin threw down his foil, he couldn't even win in his own mind.

* * *

**So sorry that it's so short. I've been swamped lately. Chapter 24 is in the works already. I want to incorporate all my new ideas into the story. Which is why it's taking so long. I have to admit though that this story is A LOT longer than I first pictured it. I guess that's a good thing(?)But anyway...please enjoy:) Sorry again for the long breaks in between. I have a feeling I'll be on the computer a lot this week so maybe I can squeeze some writing time in. **

**That's all for now:)_Cole_**


	24. 24: His Wide Grin

Chapter 24: His Wide Grin

It was three days after the death of Marcus Johnson that he was put to rest. There was a short sermon and blessing of the body before his coffin was lowered into the grounds of Kensal Green Cemetery. Julian had pulled many strings to get him buried there. The weather was for summer. The sun peeking behind the clouds and warming them. Dickon stood by solemnly. They had searched for his family but had found none. Mrs. Becky Parker had chosen to accompany them, representing Marcus' lost family with her own. She had two children, Andrew and Rebecca. Rebecca held her mother's hand; she had just turned ten and was sobbing uncontrollably imagining that this was the funeral they never had for their father. Andrew, who was five years older than his sister, had his head was bowed in prayer, a prayer for all the souls who fell in the War. When the coffin was lowered they each threw a white flower into the grave. The priest turned to them and asked if they had anything to say. None of them did.

After the funeral they had lunch in Julian's home. Dickon, Julian and Mrs. Parker sat out in the small back garden while the two children ran around the garden with a puppy they had found in the cemetery. Their mother had scolded them when they asked to bring it home. But Dickon had laughed and carried it for them. She smiled happily as she watched them. She would have to work harder now that they had a new pet. But for her children, it would be worth it.

The Parker's left after dinner since Julian had insisted on them staying. Julian sighed, and began making his way to his room. Dickon stood by the door, his hand on the knob. "Julian" he said. Julian turned on the stairs. "I think…I should go back now." Dickon kept his eyes on the door. Julian nodded and said "There's a morning train at 10." Julian began climbing the stairs again when he heard Dickon say "Tha's father…'ed be proud." He had heard that many times before. Winning a sport or academic related competition, when he graduated Prep School and University top of his class, or when he managed to keep the bank afloat during and after the Great War. But for the first time, he thought that perhaps his father, wherever he was, was proud of him.

It was 9 in the morning; people were bustling into the station. A black automobile pulled up in front of it. Julian glanced out of the window.

"Thank you" Dickon said as he stood by the door. Julian smiled lightly and nodded. Dickon wanted to say more. 'Thank you' seemed so pathetic. Isn't there more to say to someone who reached out to help even though they never met you? There had to be more to say. But no words came to him. He shook Julian's hand, adjusted his bag and strode into the station to catch his train.

"The office." Julian said as Dickon closed the door and made his way into the station. Dickon didn't have to say much. Julian could hear all the gratitude in those two words. That was all he needed.

*****

Dickon sat with his mother by the unlit fire place. It was late, and they had just put his younger siblings to bed. Before entering the station he had seen an old woman selling toys and scarves. He thought briefly of buying some for his family. But then decided on saving his money to get them a hot diner when he arrived at Thwaite village.

Dickon sighed. "I need to breathe." Susan Sowerby nodded and watched her son leave the cottage to breathe in the warm air. Just then the front door swung open and her husband, Richard Sowerby strode in. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and roughed calloused hands. His face was vibrant and warm and he smiled widely at her.

"Is tha's boy back?"

"Aye. 'es out takin' a breath." He sat down beside her and kissed her cheek. "'e brough' back some food." She continued nodding toward the table.

"Did 'e now? Bless 'im." Richard Sowerby made his way towards the food and slowly began eating "'ow does 'e feel? Does 'e look better?"

"'is mood lifted somewhat. Go out there an' speak with 'im when tha's done."

When he finished his food he took his pipe and made his way to their backyard garden and sat with his son. Susan Sowerby leaned on the door frame watching them. Her lips stretched into a thin smile. She could see their outline, sitting a wooden bench they had fashioned together when Dickon was just a young lad. Smoke hung around the father's arm slung around his son's; playfully ruffling his hair, forgetting that he was no longer a child. The son smiled; trying to seem pleased, happy. Susan Sowerby's smile lost some of it height. She hadn't seen him smile, his real smile with his wide mouth and pleasantly handsome teeth, in a long time. Since he had returned from France. She looked up to the sky and thanked whoever was listening for bringing him back, but then silently asking for his wide grin again.

*****

The next day, Colin was practicing by the fountain again. The summer rays blazed down on him as he swung his foil around ready to strike and froze on the spot. Approaching him slowly, cap twisting in his hands with his face set in determination, was Dickon Sowerby. For a second Colin thought of running him through with his foil; but he didn't. He lowered it and slowly pulled his mask off. Dickon stopped where he stood, ten paces away from Colin. His eyes glinted with a seriousness that Colin had never seen.

"You're back then." Colin said, fighting back the urge to cuss him out on the spot.

"Jus' last night." Dickon stared at Colin, at the large cut across the side of his forehead. He didn't think it would've been a good idea to come near Colin, what with his fencing foil swinging around. But he found the courage to. He had hoped that Colin would keep the mask on so he wouldn't see the wound, but Colin had removed his mask and Dickon wasn't sure if he could stand ground. But he found the courage to.

"Listen…Colin." He said.

"There's nothing to say." Colin retorted icily.

"No…no, there's plenty t' say. Firs'…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I didn't mean it. I swear. If I could take it back…I would. Really." Colin didn't reply he just stared stonily at Dickon, so Dickon continued "Second, I need you to know that I have only good intentions for Mary. I know that I'm not the richest chap around but I love her. And I will work every second of everyday to make her happy. The last thing…the last thing is Mary and I…I won't let anything happen between the two of us without your blessing"

Colin shifted "You're not serious?"

"I am. Mary means the world to me. But if our relationship will tear the three of us apart…I can't let that happen, Colin. So, I'm asking you now. Colin Craven…with your permission to court and perhaps one day wed of your cousin, Mary Lennox."

Colin felt his insides shake. He felt his breathing quicken, his heart pumped harder. He stared at Dickon; Dickon stared back. The two of them looked on each other painfully. It hurt Dickon to ask Colin such a thing, knowing his intentions. And Colin pained with the thought of not being with Mary as he had planned.

Just then Colin made a move, Dickon backed away quickly. The end of the foil became intimidating; Dickon's mind played the image of the balled edge cutting into his skin. But Colin didn't move towards him, he moved towards his fencing gear.

He picked up a spare foil and mask and said "Remember the summer…years and years ago when I came to visit and we practiced together?"

Dickon was scared to answer. "Yes." He muttered. Colin thrust the equipment into his hands and said "Be ready by five." He then began walking away to set himself "One…" he called fixing his mask on his head. Dickon shook his head "Colin…no. Tha canna be serious. Remember what happened before. Please Colin…"

"…two…" he called again.

"Colin…please. Us fighting won't solve anything" Dickon's grip on the mask tightened, the foil was heavy in his hands.

"…three…"

"Colin…I won't do this." Had Colin wet it or was the sweat on his fingers making the foil slippery? Colin turned to face him and positioned himself, bouncing from toe to toe. Dickon knew he was serious; he wanted to throw down the gear and call Colin stupid and just walk away. But he couldn't. His feet wouldn't budge.

"…four…" Dickon began hurriedly pulling the mask over his head, his fingers fumbled and he dropped his foil. He dove down to grab it.

"…five!" Dickon straightened and Colin lunged forward.

*****

The cries from the servants were the first thing that caught Mary Lennox's attention. They sounded horrified and at the same time excited. Second was the sound of metal quickly clashing into each other. She was sitting in the breakfast room over looking the back gardens. She put down the book she was reading and curiously made her way to the window. Mary pressed her face to the glass, her jaw dropped open, and her heart felt like it stopped pumping.

Two people were dueling. And not the kind of somehow organized formal fencing tournaments. They were swinging at each other, as though they were in some kind of medieval world where swords were used for the smallest reason. The servants stood by, the maids peaking out of the windows and doors, holding each other. Some gardeners were clustered together by the turn off into the other gardens. They all looked too frightened to approach the two of them.

"Colin! Stop!" she heard one of them cry. And she knew for sure who it was. She spun around and ran out of the room. This time for sure, her heart had stopped. Her feet brought her out to the lawn. Martha met her just before she could go near them.

"Miss Mary…stop! Tha mun stop! Tha'll get hurt!" She grabbed Mary.

"Martha?! What's going on?"

"It's Dickon, mam. Dickon and Master Colin." Not even the strongest man servants could've stopped her. She pulled away from Martha and pelted herself at the two fighters. The fear of getting hurt was replaced by anger. She could faintly hear Martha yelling after her. As she got closer the sound of clashing metal grew louder, more painful. She could see the sweat that formed on Dickon's arm, along with a thin red and swollen line where Colin must've hit him.

Dickon was staggering backwards. Colin kept pushing forward.

"STOP!" Mary screamed. Dickon turned to her voice. Colin threw himself forward and caught Dickon in the shoulder. He gasped and lost his step, falling to the ground. He swung upward, his untrained hand clumsy though it was, was exact and deflected another of Colin's blows. Mary threw herself in front of Colin and screamed again "STOP! STOP IT!"

Colin froze, his chest was heaving. Mary was shaking with anger. She turned to Dickon, who had pulled the mask of. His entire face was drenched with sweat, some of it soaked into his grey shirt. She wanted to slap him, to hug him, to kiss him. She moved towards him, but he stood quickly and stepped back from her, slightly shaking his head.

"Dickon and I were just fooling around." She heard Colin say. She turned around, he too had pulled his mask off, he then tossed it on the ground and smoothed back his wet hair. "Right, Dickon?" Colin said his lip twitched in an attempt to smile.

"Right." Dickon muttered, staring back at Colin. Mary looked back to Dickon.

"I'm not stupid." She whispered, venom trickling from her voice.

"Neither are we…we know perfectly well-" Colin said.

"We can't go on like this. We can't keep fighting." She said to Colin.

"You two…fought?" Dickon stammered.

"Yes. Yes and you would've known if you hadn't run off like a coward without telling anyone." Mary snapped. Dickon looked away.

"We can talk about this sensibly." Mary said staring at the ground.

"Take it back, Dickon." Colin said. They kept their voice low, like they were in the garden, so no one else on earth would hear them.

"Take what back?" Mary asked turning to Dickon, who was frowning.

"No." he answered firmly. Colin glared at him.

"Take what back?" Mary repeated, facing Colin.

"Fine..." Colin said "you are no longer welcome here. If I see or hear about you stepping foot inside the premises owned by my family I'll fire your sister as well. Understood?" Dickon's armed face fell.

"Colin. You can't do that." Mary said.

"Yes, I can. I'm the master of this house."

"Your father is."

"My father entrusted it to me when I turned 18. Which was a few months ago. Do you understand, Sowerby? Or should I translate it into broad moorland speech?" Colin straightened, Dickon did as well. Mary stared at Colin. Dickon nodded gravely.

"Aye, I understand. Master Colin." His last words were filled with mocking resentment. He turned and began making his way around the back of the house.

"Dickon, stop." Mary said. She made a move to walk towards him.

"No, Mary. You have to choose." She turned to Colin "You have to choose now, or loose us both forever."

Her eyes began to tear "You can't do this."

Colin shrugged and picked up his mask "I'll see you at dinner." He began making his way towards the Manor. Mary watched him, and then she looked to her side and watched Dickon. A piece of her heart followed the both of them. Why was that? Why couldn't she keep them together? The tears which formed didn't fall, she felt empty as she sank to the ground and watched as the two people she loved the most moved farther and farther away from each other.

* * *

**Hey Guys:)**

**So, this is _probably_ the last chapter for November. But there will be a few more-however-short ones before 2010 comes:). I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the story so far. It's so long, though:) So thank you for sticking it with me. Warning though, this story isn't even CLOSE to over. Seriously. I have a WHOLE lot more planned for these three. But I have a shorter version: so my readers since I keep writing for you it's up to you. Would you like to read moreandmore of what's to come, or would you like the shorter and simpler version? Please tell me soon:) But yeah...so thank you again, and reviews reviews reviews please:D**

**Thank you always for reading:) _ Cole _  
**


	25. 25: When Summer left

Chapter 25: When Summer left

When summer ended Colin returned to his studies in Cambridge. Though Lord Craven insisted, Mary refused to accompany her cousin. She had been spending all her time in the garden. She would wake at the break of dawn and return to the Manor for her meals. Other than that she stayed away.

Archibald Craven had grown wary of her separation from them. When the three of them sat together at meals she would not look up when she was being spoken too. She had pulled herself into her own world. One day he had asked his son why Dickon no longer came to the Manor. Colin had shrugged and said "Perhaps he has grown tired. Or perhaps he's found a better job." Mary would look up blankly from her tea and stare at Colin. He just smiled at her and took a bite from his sandwich.

The night before Colin was too leave, his father asked Colin if he would like Dickon to come have dinner with them. Colin had frowned and said that he would prefer to spend dinner just the three of them. Two nights after Colin left, Lord Craven asked Mary if she knew anything about her cousin's strange behavior. She just hugged him and cried into his collar.

"What's the matter, my dear?"

"I…I'm so sorry, Uncle. Everything is my fault."

"What is? What have you done?" she didn't answer him. And she didn't have to. Mary took his hands and kissed them "Please forgive me." What he had feared came true then. He had long expected it, true. But part of him hoped that this day would never come. That the twisted game life throws upon us would never fall upon them. "Get some rest, Mary. Tomorrow all will be bright." He kissed her forehead lovingly. And she left his study.

Mary spent her days tending to the garden. There was much to do since summer was soon to end. And it was much harder, since it was only her. She would work until her hands were sore, then she would wash them in the pond then lie underneath the apple tree. She would laugh and chase the animals. She tended each and every flower with all the love she could muster. She would not let the garden sink with the three of them.

Dickon spent the rest of his days working at the James'. Their head gardener had caught a terrible flue and he had recommended Dickon to them. Mrs. James knew of Dickon from stories she heard from the people of the village. She sent a houseboy to him three days after he had returned from London. When the head gardener came back and saw the great work Dickon had done in his absence he offered him the position of under gardener. Without any other option, Dickon agreed. He would arrive at the estate before the sun came up and left when the sun came down. Some days he would look to the sky and shut his eyes and see the Secret Garden. The flowers coiling around the trees and the stones of the wall, the animals running amok and the most beautiful woman in the world bent over the lilies wiping her face with her dirt smeared fingers. Then he would go back to his work and wonder if things were ever to improve.

Upon his return to Cambridge, Colin hurled himself at his studies. He would stay awake the entire night memorizing the bones in the body, the various diseases and they're symptoms, and diagrams of the human body. His free time was spent with his friends, strolling around the campus, playing sports and the like. On some nights he would allow himself some fun and would attend soirees. He would laugh with girls and drink until he was dizzy. Then he would return to his room and yell at no one in particular. He would curse his rotten luck that the only girl he knew he could ever love would never love him back. Then he would collapse on his bed and sink into a dreamless sleep.

Such were their days when the bright rays of summer were shut out by the heavy rains. They were not happy, nor were they sad. They were here and there. In between. They had once again been separated, perhaps for the better. Colin lay in his bed, the moon gliding its way past the heavy curtains. Dickon lay on the sweet grass of the moor, the rain sliding down his face as he stared past the droplets to see the only light in the dark night. Mary, sweet and contrary, was curled up in her blankets. Looking to the pearl which hung in the night. Their minds, in a dream like state, summoned a strange thought. A round and bright red robin, hopping about relating the events of the day. And though far apart, they all smiled.

* * *

**Hello people:) So so very sorry for the short chapter. But the next one will be....sort of long. Stick around. More to come:)**


	26. 26: A Kiss

Chapter 26: A Kiss

"Craven…please…You're the only one who understands this…filth." Andrew Watson said taking a seat beside Colin. He was seated in the library, stacks of science books piled before him. Watson was a mousy young man. His gray eyes were magnified by his large spectacles and his dark hair fell across his pale face.

"It's pretty elementary, Watson." Colin said not looking up from his book.

"No…I mean…I don't know. Please. I need to pass. I'm practically failing every subject." said Andrew shoving the paper of math equations under Colin's nose.

"Figure it out yourself." He replied pushing the piece of paper away.

"I'm begging you. I'll…I'll clean your dorm for a month. I swear." Colin sighed and faced him. "You don't have to…give it here." Colin said taking the slip of paper, he took a quick look at it and began answering Andrew's extra credit work.

"Thanks…"

"You know…I can just tutor you."

"Won't matter. I'll fail anyway."

Colin shrugged and continued solving. "What will your parents say?" he asked.

Andrew leaned back and began cleaning his glasses "Who knows? They'll probably throw me off to Sheffield or something. God! My brain can't handle this stuff. How do you do it, Colin?"

Colin finished up the equation and handed it back to Andrew "I just do."

"That's not very helpful."

"Sorry." Colin stood and began cleaning up his papers and books. He took up some of the ones he took down and began returning them to their shelves. Andrew shuffled miserably behind him.

"Yes, Andrew?" Colin said irritably.

"I'm just…passing time."

"Maybe you can pass time studying."

"My parents are waiting for me nearby. They came by so I could dine with them tonight."

"So tell them that you're studying."

"I can't lie to them. My mother will sniff me out." Colin jammed his books into his book bag. He threw it over his shoulder and began walking out of the library.

"What exactly are you asking, Andrew?"

"Uhm…well…I was wondering perhaps you might come…have dinner with us."

"No thanks."

"Please, Colin." Andrew said grabbing Colin's arm. "I'm not really comfortable with anyone else…please."

Colin rubbed his eyes. "Fine" he muttered "I'll just go freshen up."

"Right" said Andrew, his face beaming.

Colin walked off to the apartment his father rented for him to begin washing up. He took a quick bath, dressed and combed his hair. When he came down Andrew was sitting on the steps. He looked up at Colin and said "You clean up well."

"Thanks…" Colin smirked.

***

"Well, who's this young man?" said Mrs. Grace Watson, smiling serenely at Colin.

"Mother, this is Colin Craven. He is a friend from the University. Colin this is my mother, Mrs. Franny Watson."

Colin gingerly took the hand that Mrs. Watson held out. "Mr. Craven, it is a pleasure to have you" she said.

"It is a pleasure to be here."

Andrew continued the introductions nervously "My father Joseph Watson." Joseph Watson shook Colin's hand. To politely put it, Mr. Joseph Watson was a very healthy man. Colin winced under his strong grip. "My sister, Emily."

Emily Watson was one of the most beautiful women Colin had ever seen. Lush auburn hair framed her strong and delicate face. Her eyes were dark blue, and almond shaped. Bright red cheeks illuminated her cream colored skin. She smiled lightly, Colin shook her hand. "Mr. Craven. You must be the reason my brother is passing Cambridge. There is no other reason he would." Colin froze; Mrs. Watson and Andrew chuckled nervously, Mr. Watson glanced at his daughter. There was an awkward silence. Emily winked towards her brother.

"Shall we have dinner?" Mrs. Watson said turning on her heel and walking towards the dining hall. "Your arm, brother." Emily said taking Andrew's arm. Colin followed. Andrew shot a look back at Colin and frowned. Colin just smiled lightly and strode into the dining hall.

Emily Watson was a very strong character. She kept the conversation off the dreary topics her mother pushed at her. She spoke to Colin about philosophy, medicine and – much to her mother's dismay – politics. Colin spoke with her hesitantly at first, since he had never spoken to a girl of these topics, soon he found himself engrossed in the conversation. Mr. Watson grunted when he agreed about the ideas Colin had, and snorted when he disagreed. He wasn't a talking man. Mrs. Watson fanned herself uncomfortably, and her son picked at his food casting both Colin and Emily confused looks.

After dinner she bade Colin farewell, kissed her brother daintily on the cheek and waved them off. When they had arrived at the apartment Andrew turned to him and said "Colin…you find my sister…attractive. Don't you?" Colin shrugged and said "She is very attractive." Andrew nodded and said good night and walked off to his dormitory.

Colin entered his room and plopped down at his desk to study before he went to bed. He smiled to himself and began rearranging his essays and pens. He took out a black one and began flipping through one of his books. When he felt his eyes closing he washed his face and changed his clothes. Then he crawled into his bed and went to sleep.

***

Colin hadn't meant to keep in touch with Emily. Once in awhile he would see her waiting for her brother and he would stop to speak with her. After several months they began writing to each other. Colin searched for time to write her and tell her his opinions on the ever changing world. And she would write him back and tell him his ideas were either 'stupid' or 'naïve'

One day she and Colin sat under the shade of an oak tree, her father had business in the area and she had tagged along. She pulled her shawl tightly around her and shook her head sadly when Colin informed her about the anatomy class earlier that morning. Andrew was called upon by the professor to answer a question; but he could not. The professor then set about verbally abusing him. Andrew stood petrified, after class he walked right out before Colin could speak with him. He hadn't seen him since.

"I knew he wouldn't be happy here." Emily says.

"Why?"

"Let's be honest, Colin." She said turning to him "My brother isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. He's the kindest and most polished…not the sharpest."

"If he fails out here…what's next?"

"I suppose he'll be happy…sort of." Colin cast her a look of confusion. "He never wanted to come here…never wanted the strict University life. But…what father says is done."

"What did he want?"

"Travel the world…meet different people…taste different cultures…fall in love…have children and live happily ever after. My father laughed and said 'Damn, boy. Your very own sister is more of a man than you.'"

"And what did your father mean by that?"

She laughed and twisted her coat sleeve. "I wanted to go to University. My mother almost died of a heart attack right then and there. You know, one would think that in these times she would be open to such an idea. Or that…most universities would be open to that idea."

Colin watched Emily, her dark eyes staring at several students walking past them, faces nearly covered by the books. And he understood her. That longing, passion for something that seems so far from your grasp; how ridiculous it feels, yet one cannot let it go. And so it stays with you. Forever there, and you hope and hope unknowing and realize you have no control, you still accept it. He would've voiced these thoughts; and told her all that troubled him. He would've reached to her hand and grasped it in his own and poured out his life to her. But she stood suddenly, and wiped her eyes with her kerchief and said "Look, its Andrew."

Colin looked up and saw his lanky figure making his way towards them. But there was something about the way he walked, something awkward and peculiar. Emily noticed it as well she glanced and Colin and said "You don't think he's…"

She needn't have finished her sentence. Andrew suddenly collapsed to the ground. Emily shrieked his name and dashed for her brother. Colin jumped up and followed. When they reached him he was sprawled on the ground, laughing. He was drunk. Colin bent down and could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Emmy! My dear…dear sister....I love you….so very much." Andrew sputtered.

"You fool." Emily whispered

"Fool…who's a fool….you a fool…?" and he burst out laughing. Colin helped Andrew up and said to Emily "I'll take care of him. You go home. I'll call for you when he's better." He began to make his way to the building where he stayed when Emily said "Wait, I'm coming with you."

"I'd rather if you didn't. Drunkards…they're not fun to deal with" Colin grunted swaying slightly under Andrew's weight. Emily was following him "He's my brother, Colin. My twin-"

"Exactly" Colin said to her "You wouldn't want to see the state of your brother any longer. Trust me." Emily was silent but she still followed Colin to the old building. "Fine…" Colin said. "Wait out in the hall, while I deal with him. Once I've put him down, I'll call for you."

"Thank you." She whispered.

Colin dropped Andrew onto the floor of the bathroom and turned the tap on in the tub. "What have you done, Andrew?" Colin said taking off Andrew's shoes.

"Had a drink."

"You had a bit too much."

"No…Colin…I had a lot too much." Colin ran his fingers under the water, the tub was filling quickly. He began to undress Andrew down to his undergarments, and when he had finished the water in the tub was enough. Getting Andrew in the water filled tub was harder than he thought, but he managed to do it. He took a small pail, filled it with water and poured it over Andrew's face. His friend began coughing, Colin placed the pail right beside Andrew, and a good thing too since he wound up retching in it.

Taking a small towel and wetting it he began cleaning the vomit of Andrew's face and said "I can't believe you, Andrew. You can't let one professor bring you down like this. Going off and getting drunk isn't a solution. And you come up and practically…flaunt your drunkenness to you sister. This is probably the stupidest thing you can possibly do. And let's face it, you're not exactly the smartest-" Andrew laughed suddenly. "What now?" Colin said through gritted teeth.

"Having a drink isn't the stupidest thing I've done…can possibly do." Andrew replied, his head sagging to the side slightly.

"Right then." Colin said throwing down the towel "What is it?"

Andrew was silent. His eyes, which were glazed with alcohol, cleared and stared at Colin. He didn't answer. Colin shook his head and said "God, Andrew…you're a wreck." And then it happened. Colin was caught off guard by the pressure of Andrew's lips on his that he froze. His eyes remained open and he watched the steam from the water condense. Andrew pulled away and looked sadly into Colin's eyes. "You were." He said before his eyes glazed over once again, and he passed out.

Colin didn't move. He began to lose the feeling in his legs from kneeling by the tub. He took Andrew's clothes and began folding them and placing them neatly on the sink. He pulled Andrew's body out from the bath and began toweling him off. Then he took an extra set of his pajamas and dressed him, lay him down on his bed and pulled the blankets up to Andrews chin. Went off and called Emily. Watched her sit beside her sleeping brother, then left.

He found himself by a lake, watching the moon glint on the surface of the water. His sleeves were still rolled up and wet. It was getting cold, he heard thunder far off. Then he felt the rain sting his cheek. Then he cried. Because he realized that he would now have to detach himself from two more people because of the ridiculous word called love.

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**I Hope you enjoyed. And I hope you were surprised:P Reviews please:)**


	27. 27: Mother

Chapter 27: Mother

"Julian" Colin said shaking the hand of Julian Ramsey. That weekend his father had asked him to go down to London so they could spend some time together. He had thought Mary would come, but was saddened when it was just his father who came down from the carriage. Archibald Craven had invited some of their friends to dine with them that night. There was Mister and Misses Grey, looking as jolly as ever. And Julian Ramsey, with his visiting mother, Eleanor.

Julian nodded his head in acknowledgment, "Mr. Craven, Colin….my mother Mrs. Eleanor -Ramsey." He said introducing his mother. She had a snobbish look about her, her eyes were the same color as her son's though they did not give off the same welcoming glow. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ramsey" said Archibald Craven taking her hand. "Please, it's Eleanor."

Colin shot a look at Julian, he looked uncomfortable, nervous. At dinner while they were eating their soup his mother brought up Mary "I understand your niece was to come tonight, Mr. Craven."

"Ah, yes…Mary. She hasn't been feeling well lately." Colin dropped his spoon.

"Is she sick, father?" he asked. Julian looked at him, confused.

"Yes, Colin. She has been quite sick. It's the weather." Said his father stiffly.

"What a shame. I was dying to meet her." said Mrs. Ramsey shaking her head sadly and nudging Julian. His face flushed and he directed his attention to his soup. Colin bit his lip and didn't speak for the rest of the dinner. After dinner, Colin excused himself and went to the little garden behind the house his father bought for his visits to London. He stood under the apple tree looking to the sky.

"You seem preoccupied." He heard someone say; he turned and saw Julian striding towards him.

"As do you."

"I'm surprised you weren't even aware that your cousin was sick."

"I've been busy."

"That's always a good excuse."

Colin rolled his eyes, he didn't answer. Julian continued "I've always used it. An excuse to not write…not visit. It backfired on me, though."

"Your mother?"

"Yes. She asked me to come home several months ago, for the holidays. I told her I couldn't. That I was busy…with the bank. She took that as a reason to come here."

"That's nice."

Julian shrugged "I know. But…she's too…exhausting."

Colin laughed "Good luck with that then."

"And you? What's turning in your brain?"

Colin thought about the last few days. The intoxicated Andrew Watson. His kiss. How he had avoided him for the past days. It was easier than he thought, run out after class; lock himself in his room to study. Just as he was climbing into the automobile that would take him to the train station, Andrew was there.

"Colin…please wait. We have to talk."

"I have a train to catch, Andrew" said Colin impatiently. Andrew grabbed his arm. "Colin…I…you need to hear this. I don't expect anything from you. I just…I just think you should know how I feel…"

"Andrew, please stop."

"No, Colin. I…I don't know why…but…I…I am attracted to you and…I don't understand. I thought it was….a phase. But it didn't go away."

"Just stop, Andrew. I don't want to hear this." Colin said, pulling away and opening the automobile door.

"Colin…wait. I know there is no way you can reciprocate but…I love you."

Colin froze. Silence. Andrew reached out and touched Colin's arm "Please…say something…yell at me…hit me…say something."

He didn't even look at Andrew when he said, loud enough for only him to hear, "Don't touch me." He climbed into the automobile and slammed the door. He didn't turn around as the engine pushed the machine away. If he had he would have seen Andrew Watson standing at the side walk, a single tear trickling down his cheek.

"Nothing…my brain's empty at the moment, Julian" Colin lied.

"Right…" Julian said, he didn't believe him.

"We should get back inside." Colin said turning away and going back to the dinner party, leaving Julian under the apple tree.

"She needs you, Colin." He heard Julian say. He turned and met Julian's all knowing eyes. They glinted in the moonlight. "If she did…she would tell me herself." He answered and entered the house.

***

"Julian, let us go to Yorkshire and pay the poor girl a visit." His mother said taking his hand in her gloved ones. They sat in the back seat of the automobile, on the way to the house.

"I'm not sure if that is a good idea, mother."

"You were there in a heart beat for her cousin…and her friend. But for her?"

"That's different. I was in Yorkshire. Near them." His mother snorted "Honestly, boy. How do you expect to win a wife if all you do is dawdle in business."

"You ask too much of me."

"All I ask is that you come home…take a wife…give me a grandchild. It isn't too much. It's the least you can do for your poor mother." She continued "Don't be like your father."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Julian said, trying to hide his anger.

"Immersing yourself in something which only benefits you."

"That's thick." Julian muttered turning away from her.

"Don't take that tone with me. All my friends have grandchildren. I was deprived of you when you were a child, remember? You father stole you away from me to live in Mexico. And now you…depriving me of a grandchild just to scorn me. Everything you do is for yourself, do not deny it."

"You think that the bank is for me? It's for you and your stupid parties, Mother." Julian replied pulling his hand out of his mother's grasp.

"How dare you?!-" she launched on about how he always took her for granted. He didn't hear her. He asked the driver to stop, and then he stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door on her screaming face and insults. Julian walked home under the buildings of London. He delayed the arrival, taking the side streets, emptying his pockets to all the beggars. When he arrived to the house he had bought, his mother was asleep and a note was pinned to his door which read:

_How dare you slam the door on me? I am thoroughly insulted. Get your act straight and keep your immature tantrums to yourself._

It was written in his mother's script. Good, he thought. He went into his room and tore the paper into shreds, opened the window and let the pieces get swept away in the London air. He inhaled it. He hated her and her ideas at times. Though visiting Mary Lennox was one of her better ones. Perhaps it would be a good idea. Soon. Take his mother out to see the country. He thought of leaving the window open, and then closed it tightly when the November breeze whipped his face. "Damn the cold." He muttered sourly as he threw himself on his bed and tried his best to sleep.

Sleep had been unattainable since his mother had arrived from America. The day had started out like any other. And he had preferred that it would end like any other. Coming home from the bank, he was not much in a mood to socialize. He had plans of just not doing anything when he arrived home, read a good book perhaps or take out his violin. Adjusting bank logs and other business matters were at the back of his mind. He should've known something was wrong when the housekeeper, Madame Buecroft, opened the door for him. She did not greet him with her usual pecks on the cheek, not even when he offered her the flowers he had seen on the way home. She just muttered something about getting a vase and made her way to the back.

"Oh…"she said, looking over her shoulder "There is someone for you. In the parlor." Not in French, in whispered English. As she made her way off he could hear her muttering obscenities- those she said in French. He strode into the parlor and resisted the temptation to run back out when he saw his mother rise from the sofa.

"Surprise!" She said waving her wine glass in the air. It took several moments but he managed to stammer "Mother…you're… here." Not the best remark. He made his way to her and she tapped his cheeks.

"You're getting thinner, boy. Have you been eating? That's the problem with French women…tiny, tiny portions."

"I've been eating."

"And Madame Beucroft…it's as though she has forgotten how to speak English" Just as she said this Madame Beucroft entered chatting to them merrily in French.

"She can speak English just fine." Julian said turning to her. At this she began to speak rapidly in French, "Don't dare tell her. If I have to speak with her I'll hang myself. I love you to death, boy…like a son. But your mother is intolerable. I swear to God I'll put rats in your food if you make me speak to her…" All with a bubbly smile plastered on her face.

"Shame I never the learned the language." His mother remarked sadly. Julian was incredibly jealous since he had absolutely no way of avoiding his mother as Madame Beucroft did. So he simply said "Maybe…I've gotten used to it…so I've taken it as…English."

Madame Beucroft smiled and left the room. "Now then…what have you been up to? Taking girls to the theatre, I do hope. Only joking. Mister Grey wrote me, actually, about your friend from Yorkshire. And Mrs. James, of course couldn't help but send monthly letters about what you were up to. It wouldn't have hurt if I received a letter from my own son…but one can only hope so much."

"I've been busy." Julian said, looking into his tea.

"Well, make time. Because mama's here."

Such was the arrival of his mother. Two weeks after the dinner with the Cravens Julian called home and informed his mother he would be in the office until very late in the evening. Not a lie. He sat at his desk, tallied numbers, signed documents and such. It was nearing midnight when he finally left, hoping to arrive to a sleeping house instead of a dinner discussing lady's gloves. Sometimes Julian wondered if his mother had wanted a girl so badly that she forgot she had a son, instead.

It was colder than usual. Julian rolled up the automobile windows and pulled his scarf around his nose. Winter in London was just as bad as winter in Boston.

"Sir…look sir. There's someone seated at the door. Shall I go and deal with it?" The driver, John Connay, said. Julian peered out of the window and saw a figure huddled at the front door of his home. "No…it's fine. I'll do it." Julian said exiting the automobile and approaching the front steps. "Uhm…excuse me." The figure rose, and it took several seconds for Julian to realize who this was. "Colin…what on earth are you doing here?" he said, running up the steps, unlocking the door and pushing Colin's shivering figure in. He glanced behind him and saw John going in through the back, he nodded to him: "Everything is under control."

Once inside he pushed Colin into the parlor and had him sit. "How long were you out there?" Julian turned the lights on, and began to make a fire. "Just an hour or two." Colin replied miserably. Julian only saw his face then. It was drawn and exhausted, red rimmed eyes and sagging smile. "I thought you'd be up in Cambridge by now." He managed to say, taking a seat in front of him. "I was…came back down. No one was at the house…my house. I wasn't quite sure where to go…"

"Colin…what happened?" Colin looked up at him, sadly. Julian felt his blood run cold, "Has something…bad happened?" he asked again. Premonition. Premonition was freezing Julian's blood, finally Colin answered: "Can you keep a secret?"

* * *

**Hi readers:) BOOOWAAAAH---Major cliff hanger....:}**

**I _promise_ a new chapter by Friday (Dec. 18) As I should've been studying Economics...but I needed to finish this. I hope you enjoyed. Right now I am incredibly sick :( and have my examinations. Go life. Oh well. Ultra fresh fruit juice and soy milk are keeping me alive. Anywyas, yeah...I really hope you enjoyed. And soon you'll learn more about Mrs. Eleanor:) And Colin's secret:}**

**Until Then_ Cole _:)  
**


	28. 28: Mary's Dreams

Chapter 28: Mary's Dreams

Of late, her dreams had been vivid. Each morning she remembered them, the colors, and the emotions. Every aspect of her dreams, she knew. When Mary dreamed, it was spring in the Garden. Flowers had once more begun to bloom, the robin was singing in a distant tree. And she was in a flowing pink dress, her arms stretched out and spinning. The long stems of lilies brushed against her legs. She would get dizzy and fall to the ground, laughing. Then Dickon would come. He would pull her up and they would dance in the light of a new day. Turning and turning and turning. Colin would sit on the stump, laughing. She would beckon for him to join them, and they would join hands and spin in a circle. Their laughs and the sound of the spring morning blending together wonderfully.

She dreamed this every night after summer. Come morning she would be in the Garden, spinning herself dizzy. Falling on the grass then waiting for Dickon to pull her up and Colin to laugh and clap with them. But Dickon and Colin never came. And when she realized this, she would go about and attend to the garden.

When the rain came her nose became stuffy. Soon the slight discomfort turned into hacking coughs and back pains. The back pain spread into her arms and fingers, every movement was hard and made her tired. Then one morning she awoke to her first migraine. She stayed in bed the entire day. Martha and Mrs. Medlock forced her to stay in bed for two weeks after. That was when her dreams began to change. They were more frequent, after all, being in bed the entire day all she did was drift in and out of sleep. At first, Colin was no longer sitting beside them laughing. Then Dickon no longer came to help her too her feet and spin her around.

In her new dream she sat pulling up a stubborn weed. Her fingers were raw and smeared with soil. She dug and dug around it, her nails filled with earth. But it would not come up. She sat back on her heels and turned and called a name. It rang through the garden; it was strange to her – when she awoke in the morning- though in her dream the name came most natural.

He came to her, his dark hair pushed up in every direction, his clean white shirt rolled to his sleeves, his long and delicate fingers smudged with dirt. He knelt beside her and together they pulled up the weed. Dirt whipped their faces, and she rested her head on his shoulder- "Julian…" she whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair.

Mary awoke with a start. She pulled herself out of bed slowly, so as not to start the painful throbbing of her head. On her desk were his letters, arranged neatly in a stack. She and Julian had been writing each other. His off hand manner and his witty remarks were a blessing since she could no longer speak with Dickon- and refused to speak with Colin. For awhile her only comfort had been Martha, but then Julian's letter arrived. It explained why Dickon had suddenly vanished. And then they wrote each other more often. She wanted to tell him all her secrets. Explain why Colin and Dickon had really fought that night. But she could not bring herself to. She was just happy he never asked.

She held one and opened it slowly; his thin slanted writing covered the page. She ran her fingers over the black letters. Then put the letter back down and climbed lazily back in bed. "I'll think about it later" she whispered as the heavy and dark curtain fell over her head, and she became too tired to do anything but lay in bed.

One morning, she woke up and found her Uncle sitting beside her. Worry was etched on his old face "Good morning, child." He whispered touching her hand.

"Good morning, Uncle" she said, the words stumbled out of her mouth clumsily.

"Are you feeling better?"

She thought for a while "…no…"

"Shall I call a doctor?"

"No…I do not need a doctor." He frowned.

"I am going to London today…have dinner with your cousin."

"Well then, it is a good thing I'm sick. I won't have to go."

He smiled and touched her forehead "You do not even have a fever."

"It's strange…isn't it? It…it feels like a fever before it comes out. It is as though a fever is stuck inside me but not quite."

"Then perhaps…your body is fighting the infection still. It is so like you, Mary. Not even a malaise can ruin your being." He leaned forward and kisser her cheek. Then Martha was there, pushing his chair out of the door. He turned to her before leaving "Julian will be there…do you have a letter for him?"

"No…I do not even have strength to write."

"Anything else?" he asked, it was as though he was pushing for something. It glinted in his eyes; he wanted her to say something. And she knew exactly what it was, but she could not bring herself to say it, the words would not come to her tongue.

"Tell him…take care of his mother." She managed to say. Her uncle nodded sadly and motioned for Martha to wheel him out of her room. Mary closed her eyes and what she had wanted to say echoed in her mind- 'Send him my love.' Placing 'love' and 'Julian' in the same sentence was strange. It was what her uncle was hoping for; she saw it each time a new letter arrived for her.

Maybe…sometimes she would try to think if she did indeed love him- or if not love him; foster some sort of romantic feelings for him. But it should be obvious- shouldn't it? How had she known with Dickon? He had laughed with her on the swing and stroked her cheek. Was it then? Maybe it was before that. Maybe it was when he had given her a little golden ball of chocolate. Even farther back, perhaps. When she had met a boy sitting under a tree- hypnotizing the animals. She wasn't sure. And she didn't want to know, anyway.

Her dreams of his tousled dark hair and delicate fingers- that was her secret. When she saw Martha she wanted to tell her this. But she couldn't. She would have Martha sit on her bed and tell her stories of the moor, of the village, of her two little girls. She would stare and Martha's large pregnant belly and tell her to go home since the baby could come any minute. But Martha would laugh and tap her nose and tell her "Tha mun not worry. The wee baird will tell me when it is to come." Mary would smile, and then Martha would stand up and tell her to rest. She found herself more than happy to, she easily slipped into her sleep. "Julian..." she whispered as he ran his fingers through her bright hair.

That was usually where the scene ended. But it went on. She felt his lips kiss her forehead, his kisses traveled over her face. To her ears, her cheeks her nose. She found her eyes locked on his, he smiled lightly and ran his finger from the top of her brow to her lips, and he ran his thumb across them slowly. He leaned into her and captured her lips with his.

Mary jolted up, her cheeks flushed. She was shaking, Martha ran to her "Miss Mary…Miss Mary…wha' is wrong?" Sobs turned into painful coughs. They shook her entire body, stabbing her throat and taking the wind from her lungs. Doubling over to get the fluid out of her system, she felt Martha wrap her in her arms and massage her back. When the fit ended she lay her head against Martha's shoulder, exhausted. Her friend wiped her mouth with a damp cloth. "Oh…Martha…I…fear…I might…" she looked into Martha's face, searching for what to say. "Master Julian…?" Martha asked, in barely a whisper. "I think so…I don't…everything is so confusing."

"Sleep, Miss Mary. Per'aps it will 'elp."

"No, Martha. Dreams don't help. Dreams don't help at all." But still, she drifted into sleep. And to her relief, a dreamless sleep.

* * *

** Hello, readers.**

**As promised:) Though I am having a difficult time writing what I intended to write in this chapter. I hope to get it done by either tonight or tomorrow. Err:| Reviews please...I need need motivation:)  
**


	29. 29: Their Words

Chapter 29: Their Words

Colin could not bring himself to tell Julian the entire story. How could he? It all seemed strange and hard to accept, even to him. He had only changed the kiss- he told Julian that his friend, Andrew Watson, had informed him of his preferences. He had told Colin that he was more affectionate of men rather than women. Julian stared at Colin confused, shocked. But he said nothing; he merely waved his hand for Colin to continue. Colin told Julian what happened after that. How he had avoided Andrew for a month, unsure about how to take this information. He kept the freezing his once friend out even after returning from the weekend in London.

All had been going well upon his return. Andrew was nowhere to be seen; Colin admitted that he had been happy about it. But then, two nights ago, Colin arrived at his small home and found a weeping figure seated on the stairs. He approached, carefully "Excuse me…" he whispered. The figure rose carefully, it was Emily.

"Emily…" Colin said, striding forward "What are you doing here?"

"Oh…Colin…you…haven't heard." She whispered her teary eyes wide and red.

"Heard…?"

"I thought…someone was to tell you."

"Tell me what." Dread froze the blood in his veins, he rubbed his hands together "Shall we go inside?" he asked Emily. She nodded, carefully. Once they were in the parlor she sat on the sofa and began sobbing once more. "Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?"

"Colin…please…sit down." She said. He didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"I brought some fine wine from London…father says-" he continued

"Andrew's dead" He heard her say. His knees gave way, a chair miraculously caught him. "What…?" he whispered. Andrew…dead. How could that be? He seemed healthy enough. Was there an accident of some sort?

"Yes…" she said, pressing her kerchief to her eyes "Just yesterday."

"How?"

"You must keep this secret. For father is telling a different story."

"Yes."

She drew a breath before answering, "He…he took his own life…a bullet."

"I see." Was all that came to his mind. What else could he say? His stomach churned. "Just…I don't understand." He whispered. She looked up at him and said "He…he told us something. A few days ago. He said that...about his…sexuality." She whispered the last part, her voice shook and she choked on her sobs.

Colin could not bring himself to look at her; to comfort her. He sat still, in his own world. Andrew's sexuality; he knew that perfectly well. It was as though his chest was being crushed. Was he the reason for Andrew's death? Mousy Andy Boy- is what they had all called him. And how he was gone, forever. Without the smallest notice of good-bye.

"You were…his friend…his closest friend; perhaps…you had a right to know." She said though her tears.

"I knew." Colin whispered. Emily looked up at him, bewildered.

"You…knew?"

"Yes...he...told me."

"And you did nothing? Said nothing?" her voice shook with emotion.

"What did you expect me to tell him?"

"I don't know- we all did the same thing anyway. All of us turned our backs on him." she turned away from Colin and proceeded to sob into the pillows. He sat by her and wrapped Emily in his arms. She cried pitifully into his shirt, and he into her hair. But this was life. You take things for granted, move without thought. Drink your tea quickly and long for more when it is gone. Lock oneself in the room during the beautiful summer, surrounding yourself with sorrow. Then one comes out when it is winter and wonder why summer is gone. Put friends aside because of arguments- and when they're gone you realize that you were wrong. That you could've done something. Shown some emotion. But Andrew is dead- he will never come back, he will never fail an exam, hear the robins sing to each other, he can never travel the world as he dreamed, Colin could never apologize, or feel Emily's warm hug. If one believed in Heaven, then you could say that he will always be there to watch. But one watches in vain, since that is all one can do. Watch as everyone else lives their lives without you.

Emily pressed her face into Colin's neck. He kissed her hair. There were too many emotions in the room; more than either of them could handle. It was this confused emotion which caused them to find each others lips, to grope each others bodies, then get caught tangled in each other's clothes. He ran his fingers over her exposed body, kissing every inch. She gasped and urged him on. They moved as one, they danced the intricate dance and sang the sweet song of their names and touching skin. When it had finished her kissed her neck and she whispered "Oh, Colin." And they fell into the void of dreams, still wrapped around each other.

****

Julian sat as though in a trance; he turned away from Colin and stared into the fire. Neither of them spoke. Colin pulled his coat tighter around him and took a sip from his glass of brandy.

"You've just...tangled yourself more." Julian finally said, still looking away from Colin.

"I know."

"What happened after?"

"After?"

"After you slept with your dead friend's sister..." Julian replied, exasperated.

"I don't...nothing...she left the next morning. Like nothing...happened."

"And you haven't spoken to her since?"

"I did something stupid. I know that. I didn't come here for a lecture." Colin said slamming his glass down.

"So why did you come here?" asked Julian, finally looking at Colin. His voice still calm and level, his eyes brewing a storm. Colin froze under his gaze.

"I don't know...what to do..." he finally managed to say. Julian pushed himself from his chair and paced around the room. His hands were shaking.

"And...and you expect me to know? You expect me to clean up this...mess that you willingly threw yourself into?" The volume of his voice rose slightly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't know what to do...I'm sorry." he looked at his hands. He heard Julian as he still walked around the room. Finally the footsteps stopped. Colin forced himself to look up.

"This is what you do..." Julian said carefully, rubbing his hands together "You write Miss Emily. Do not mention what the two of you did. Ask her when her brother's funeral is. I suggest you go, you owe the family that. When you're there take her into private and speak with her-"

"I'm not going to marry her." Colin interrupted. Julian turned to him.

"Listen, Colin. If she's with child...then you'll have to. It's only been what? Three days? Give it a week or two for her to know. Then tell her to write you. Is your term over?"

"Yes. We're on Christmas holiday."

"Very good. Go home."

"What?"

"To Yorkshire. You owe your family that."

"All right." Colin said.

"You can stay here for now. I'll go ahead...to Yorkshire...to check on Mary. I heard you two had a fight, she may not want to see you."

Colin's blood ran cold "Do you know what about?"

"No, it is your business. After the funeral head straight to Yorkshire, stay at the inn first. Until I send word to you to go to the Manor. Do you understand?"

Colin nodded "Yes."

"Good. Go get some sleep. Third floor, first door to the right." Colin stood and made his way out of the parlor. He turned and saw Julian poking at the fire.

"Thank you." he muttered. Julian turned to him. "Take care of yourself, Colin." said Julian.

The room Julian has assigned Colin was furnished well enough, books lined the shelves. There was a pitcher of water and a washing bowl. He washed his face, then curled into the bed; pulling the blankets over his head to form a tent. At first, he had thought he wouldn't be able to rest- he was wrong. The moment his eyes closed he drifted into sleep.

****

"It is like we're in another world." his Mother commented, delighted by the snow covered moors. Julian nodded and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. He had written the James and Lord Craven about the visiting with his Mother. They would stay in Misselthwaite for a few days, then move to the James Manor. When he responded to their letters he wrote that he could not be more excited to stay with them- truth was that he was dreading the freezing rooms in the large Manors. These old houses- Manors- were built entirely out of stone. And stone kept temperature very well. He would probably wear several coats at a time.

Lord Craven met them at the entrance he chuckled as Julian stumbled out of the horse drawn carriage. He watched at young Master Ramsey helped his mother down.

"Mrs. Eleanor, how lovely to see you again." He called out to her. She smiled at strode elegantly towards him, extending her hand.

"Yes. Very lovely to see you again. You have a marvelous home." Archibald took her gloved hand and kissed it gingerly. Julian stood behind her, his hands in his pockets and hoping from foot to foot to get warm. "Marvelous as it is...it is quite empty. Which was why I was more than happy to receive Julian's letter and have you stay with us. Well, let us get you inside before your son freezes to death." He said good naturedly. Julian smiled gratefully, his mother turned to him and frowned. "You don't have to mind that. The boy has a habit of exaggerating."

"Still, we wouldn't want to risk him getting sick. Come then, Julian. Mary is waiting for us in the breakfast room."

****

Mary sat by the fire, wrapped in a thick shawl made by Mrs. Sowerby. She watched the door anxiously, she could hear voices coming from the hallway. As the doorknob turned she stood, shakily. The thought of seeing Julian after her dreams scared her; emotions are very unpredictable. Her fear was that upon seeing Julian her feelings for him would be clear. Yes, she wanted to know how she really felt about him, but at the same time the thought frightened her. Relief and an incredible wave of joy. Julian was the first to enter the room. He looked to her and smiled, she resisted the temptation to throw her arms around him. A middle aged woman followed - she must've been his mother - her hair was a rich brown color, her stance was tall and elegant, her face held delicate features and her eyes were like her son's-only cold and calculating. Just by looking at her Mary knew what kind of woman she was. The kind that smiled, curtsied and praised to no end in public; though in private company - shrewd and arrogant.

"You must be Miss Mary Lennox." she said smiling and taking Mary's hand "I have heard _so_ much about you."

"Mrs. Ramsey what a pleasure to meet you." Mary replied, curtsying, because she knew that Mrs. Ramsey would relish it.

"Oh, what an absolute delight!" she said patting Mary's cheek lightly. Mary glanced over her shoulder and had to stop herself from giggling when she saw Julian's expression. One of his eyebrows was raised in a peculiar manner, his lip curled and he was shaking his head. A look of amazement. "She's quite a delight." Mrs. Eleanor said turning to her son, who immediately switched back to his regular slim smile. "Please, sit beside me Mrs. Ramsey...How was your trip?" she said waiting for Mrs. Ramsey to sit and pouring her some tea. Julian and her Uncle settled themselves across from them. She handed them both their cups and listened and responded to her stories. Her Uncle looked on and smiled, Ms. Minchin's School had indeed turned Mary into a lady. At least on the outside. It was too late for supper, so they ate small frosted cakes with tea. Lord Craven handed Julian a glass of brandy- which he took too better than tea.

"Well, look at the time." her Uncle exclaimed "It is quite late and you must be tired from your journey." He called in Mrs. Medlock and asked her to lead them to their rooms. Mary pecked Mrs. Ramsey's cheek and said "Rest well, Mrs. Ramsey." She watched as Julian and his Mother left the room. Julian glanced back and she read his look- _I need to talk to you._

She felt her Uncle touch her arm "You were trained well."

Mary smiled "She's quite..."

"Haughty."

"Yes. I'll take you too your room, Uncle." she said.

"Not too worry." he said "Carlyle, please..." Their manservant came forward and wheeled him out of the room. Mary followed, before parting she kissed both her Uncle's cheeks and said good night.

****

He wore three coats, two pairs of socks and a scarf around his head to sleep that night, because even with a fire burning the air still chilled him. Even in Boston he had slept like this, tucked under piles of thick blankets wearing several pajamas pulled over each other. Julian was not sure how long he lay awake, but he knew that he couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour when he heard someone knock at his door. Willpower pulled him out of bed, wrapping a thick blanket around himself he opened the door slowly. Mary stood outside holding a candle. She was wrapped in a fur coat, a scarf hung loosely about her neck, her hair was in a winter bonnet, gloves were in her other hand and she on her feet were thick walking boots. She took one look at him and stifled a giggle.

"Cold?" she whispered, smiling.

He rubbed his eyes "What time is it?"

"Six O'clock"

"In the morning?"

"Yes, in the morning."

"Mary...why are you awake at six in the morning?"

"We're going for a walk."

"What?"

"Yes."

"Can't it wait?"

"No."

"Why not?" he pulled the blanket around his body tighter.

"Because, Julian, they don't let me out for more than a few minutes everyday."

"Yes, because it is freezing _and _they're scared you'll get sick. I can't blame them."

"Listen, I have to go."

"Why? Where do you have to go so badly that it has too be done even before the sun is up?"

She dropped her voice to softer than a whisper "The Secret Garden." He stood for a moment considering "Fine, all right. I'll just...get ready to freeze to death."

"Thank you." Mary whispered before Julian closed the door to change. He came out after several minutes, with a black wool coat, what looked like two scarves wrapped around his neck, gloves and in his arms he carried two blankets.

"We can get rubber boots for you on the way out. Mummy wouldn't want you to ruin your dress shoes." She said jokingly, linking their arms.

"Hahaha...very funny, Mary" He said. Sure enough, when they reached the servants entrance there was a pair of rain boots. Julian pulled them on.

"How many socks are you wearing?" Mary asked.

"I'm not sure...about ten."

"You grew up in the North, you should be used to the cold."

"Well, I'm not."

"Look..." Mary said walking to one of the nearby tables "Someone left his cap. Catch, Julian, you wouldn't want your ears to freeze off."

"Mary, I don't feel good about stealing someone's cap."

"You'll give it back." she said taking it from his hands and putting it on him. She stared at him, her eyes unfocusing slightly, tears threated to form.

"What's wrong? I look ridiculous, don't I?" Julian asked.

"No...no...you look fine." Mary said turning away from him,_ You look like Dickon_ - she had thought, and opening the door. The cold wind smacked them right in the face.

"This is ridiculous." She heard Julian mutter behind her. She turned to him and saw he pulled out another scarf from his pocket and began wrapping it around her face.

"I don't want you to get sick." he said.

"I'm more worried about you." she said, her breath caught in the cloth and warmed her face. "Ready?" she asked.

"I guess."

"Good." She grabbed his hand and ran as fast as her feet could carry her. She felt Julian stumble slightly then pick himself up, and keep pace with her. They came to the kitchen gardens and turned, soon they were in front of the ivy wall- now encrusted with snow. She pushed the door open and ran into the garden ahead of Julian. It was pristine. Truly a winter wonderland. Snow delicately covered every surface, droplets of ice were frozen on the wood of nearby trees. The pond was completely iced over- she had removed the fish in October fearing they would freeze to death. She heard Julian's steps as his weight crushed the snow.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked turning to him. He managed to nod.

"You're just saying that." She said pulling the scarf from her face.

"No...I mean it. I could just appreciate it more if..."

"You weren't freezing?"

"Yes." He spread out one of the blankets and sat on it, she came and sat beside him.

"I haven't been here in months." she said.

"They've been keeping you inside?"

"Yes...I could hardly walk."

"We should go back in now."

"No."

"Mary if your condition worsens..." she turned to him and shook her head. His lips were turning blue and he was shaking. She laughed.

"Don't worry Mr. Ramsey. You're the one who's cold, not me." She took the second blanket and draped it around him.

"I...dislike the cold. It makes me feel...vulnerable." he said, in between his chattering teeth. She laughed and leaned on his shoulder.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" she asked.

"Oh...well...Colin's coming into town." she pulled away.

"What?"

"Yes."

"Why do you know this?"

"Because I told him too."

"I don't want him."

"I know. But he's still your cousin."

"You don't know what he did."  
"Because you don't tell me."

"Because you don't ask."

"If I asked would you tell me?" he said looking at her. She bit her lip and looked away "I thought not." he continued. They sat in silence for sometime.

"You look tired." Mary commented drily, twisting her sleeve.

"I haven't been sleeping well."

"Why not?"

Julian shrugged.

"Is it the cold?"

"No, I don't think so. I used to be able to sleep fine, whatever the weather was like."

"Is it your mother?" Mary asked, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

"Yes, I think so. I'm scared to wake and find her eating my innards."

"You're evil." Mary said laughing.

"I'm honest."

"Yes. Very honest."

"Mary...whatever you and Colin fought about...I think he's realized his mistake, and that he wants to make things right again."

"What makes you think that?"

"Something...happened."

"What?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because...because it is his story to tell...Be nice, Mary." He held the blanket open for her and she let him wrap it around the two of them, finally Julian stood and said "We have to go back in now or I'm not joking when I say I'll freeze to death." She laughed and he pulled her up, folded the blankets and led the way out of the garden. She stood and looked around her then she heard Julian call her name and she whispered good-bye to the garden, because she wasn't sure when she would return.

****

Colin watched as Dickon rode out into the moor, he followed slowly on his rented horse. Once the village was behind them he called his name "Dickon!" Dickon turned and the expression of shock was clearly etched on his face. He looked more rugged, more tired. He pulled Carter to a stop and waited as Colin came up to him. They looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Dickon licked his lips and tightened his hold on the reins. Colin was first to speak.

"I'm sorry."

A smile played on Dickon's lips "Aye. Me as well." he said. Colin swung of the horse, so did Dickon.

"I realized...that I was...being a monster. And that losing a friend...it's awful. I'm sorry. I should've been more considerate...I'm not sure if that is the right word. What I mean to say is...if you love Mary, then acting as I did really won't solve anything. Besides, I would rather lose her to you than anybody else."

Dickon was silent "Colin...Mary and I...we should've told tha. I'm sorry, as well. But...I am willing to...back down if tha really wants her."

"You mean that?"

Dickon cocked his head "Aye...a little."

Colin couldn't help but laugh "We can...go back to being friends then?" he said reaching out his hand. Dickon shook it "Aye." Colin was not aware of how much he had missed Dickon's wide crooked grin. They started laughing- both not knowing why. All they knew was that they were friends again, things were getting back to the way they were. The way they should be.

"Can I ask you something?" Colin said taking the horse's reins and urging it to walk. Dickon followed.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you could love anyone aside from Mary?"

Dickon looked to the sky "No...I don't think so, no."

"You're so sure."

"Doesn't tha feel th' same?"

"I thought I did...but I am not so sure anymore."

Dickon looked at him quizzically "Tha 'as met someone?"

"I have. We did something stupid." He looked at Dickon who seemed to understand.

"Ah." Dickon said nodding.

"I'm still...unsure about everything with her."

"I see."

"What do I do?"

"I'll be 'onest... I 'ave no idea." They were both silent.

"You should go back to the Garden." Colin said.

"Aye. We all should."

****

Mary, Julian and Mrs. Ramsey took a walk around the frozen lawns of Misselthwaite Manor. It was almost noon and the weather was good for winter, the sun peeking out behind the clouds. Enough to give them some warmth though not enough to turn the snow into sloppy water. They were in the middle of discussing the most interesting and universal topic- the weather.

"It is strange how my Uncle, cousin and I stayed in Massachusetts we never met." Mary pointed out.

"You lived in America for some time, dear?"

"Yes, mother. During the Great War." Julian supplied.

"Oh, well your timing was perfect then. You did not have to participate in that...bloodbath." She said.

"Well, watching it from a far is difficult. Thinking of all your countrymen going out to defend England whilst we sat idle miles away."

"Dear, wars are not for us."

"Women became nurses."

"No, dear. That is not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean, Mrs. Ramsey?"

"Do you know what's happening in London?"

"I am not sure what you mean."

"Gardens and other public areas are deteriorating. Do you know why? Because servants went to War. If you had become a nurse, Mary, then you would've found yourself treating the wounds of...garden boys and such. You wouldn't have wanted that, would you?" Mary's ears turned bright pink. She looked away from Mrs. Ramsey from fear of pushing her into the snow or slapping her across the face. Julian was saying something about how it didn't matter what their professions were, but Mary didn't hear any of walked away from them, quickly. All she could think of was Dickon and the other working men uprooted from their family lives to live out a death sentence. Her eyes began to water, and she took of at a run. Mary heard Julian calling her, but she didn't turn back.

She found herself in one of the garden mazes, she leaned on one of the tall walls and began sobbing. She missed Dickon, she missed him with all her heart. She felt someone touch her shoulder and turn her around. It was Julian. He reached up and wiped the tears from her face, whispering words of comfort. She leaned into him and cried more into his coat, but he still held her and stroked her hair. "I'm sorry." he whispered "I told you she was evil." Mary couldn't help but chuckle. She pulled away though they were still very close to each other. There was something in his eyes, an emotion she tried to read.

"Mary...I" he whispered. She nodded, unsure of what to do. What to say. Their lips barely grazed each other when Julian moved away, his hand over his mouth as though his lips were in pain.

"Julian..." Mary tried to say. But he waved his hand, cutting her off "No...you don't..." he turned to face her "It's Dickon." Mary froze and stared at him, horrified. How had he known? Had Colin told him? Had Dickon told him? She wanted to look away from him, but couldn't. He shook his head sadly and turned away from her, rubbing his tired eyes. "I'm so stupid." she heard him whisper.

"Mary...Julian," his mother came around the corner "I was wondering where you two had run off too! Look, who is here." They both looked in her direction and saw Colin standing beside her, and behind Colin was Dickon. They both smiled weakly. No one spoke. They all just looked at each other in shock

Suddenly, Julian spoke "Colin..." he strode forward and shook his hand, then moved to Dickon "Dickon...good to see you again." They both greeted Julian. But Mary stood rooted on the spot. Julian still didn't look at her, he took his mother's arm and said "Look, mother. I just saw a squirrel bound over the hedge. Let us go follow it" and pull her away. She stammered protests, but was soon dragged off by her son. Dickon was the first one to move, then Colin followed, they both turned and began trudging away. Mary knew where they were going so she followed them. They needed to be in their garden, in their Secret Garden.

Dickon opened the door for them and they went it. When they all stood in the garden, they couldn't speak. Colin shifted position and Dickon grinned at Mary.

"What's happened?" Mary whispered.

"Well..." Colin said "I don't want to kill Dickon anymore." Dickon chuckled. Colin continued "And we've both decided to be more civil."

"You mean you're not going to act like a spoiled brat anymore?" Mary asked.

Colin smiled "Yes. I'm sorry, Mary." he strode forward and hugged her "I'm sorry, cousin."

She hugged him back "I'm sorry too." Despite herself she felt tears forming. She pulled away and wiped her eyes, Colin was doing the same thing. Dickon came to them and pulled them both into his arms. "Everythin's good again." he whispered. Everything was good again. "Colin was scared when I almost beat 'im in fencing." Dickon said jokingly. Colin pushed them both away "How dare you?!" he said, feigning anger. He picked up the nearest stick and said "Have at you, filthy dog!" running towards Dickon, who also took a stick and parried, laughing. "Stop it!" Mary cried, forming a snow ball and throwing it at Colin's head. They chased each other around the garden, throwing snowballs and batting them away with sticks. They didn't notice the robin perched on the nearby tree, singing his loudest song because the Garden was happy again.

* * *

**Hey everyone:)**

**I am really sorry that a.) it took me ages to write this chapter and b.) it kinda sucks:(...anyway...I still hope you enjoyed and reviews please:) Happy New Year as well. Heads up= there is more and more to come and I am not sure...if I can pop time in to write. Hectic months ahead. That's all**

**_cole_  
**


	30. 30: The Heat of the Cold

**Hello everyone. **

**Sorry for the long long absence and short short chapter. Its hard to find time to write. And even when I have time I can't find the emotion to write. I've fallen into a deep rut, lately. I'm still clawing my way out. Long way out, but I'm getting there. There is way way more to come, I am not close to done with this story. The next chapter will be longer, promise. I can't say when, but I am working on it.**

**Reviews Reviews Reviews please. **

**Thanks for reading and sticking out this journey with me. **

**_cole_  
**

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Chapter 30: The Heat of the Cold

Dickon watched as Mary entered the garden. Her beige scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, clutching a wicker basket to her chest. The snow coated every surface of the garden, it was freezing, the wind whipped lightly at the branches, tickling the frozen wood. He made his way toward her slowly; she handed him the basket and pulled from it a thick blanket that she laid on the ground carefully.

"Colin doesn't feel well today." She said adjusting the scarf around her face so she could talk to Dickon. He didn't reply. Colin was feeling fine today, but only Dickon knew that. It was actually Dickon who felt sickly. He had been preparing himself for months- perhaps even years- for this moment.

It was late January. Colin would be returning to his studies soon, which is why he had encouraged Dickon to do this before he left. What had happened was this. Colin had discussed with Dickon his intentions with Mary. Colin was surprised at what he heard from Dickon. It was one of the most candid discussions he had ever had with his friend. Did he want to wed Mary? Yes, Dickon had answered, with all his heart. So Colin had asked him what on earth was stopping him from doing it. Did he not care to fight for her? Dickon's answer was this – "Mary is th' most beautiful being in the world. An angel who lost her wings and fell down t' us, a fairy from a distant forest; she is ethereal" – Colin was taken aback, he had never thought Dickon to speak in such prose, Dickon continued "Th' thing is, I am a simple man. I have nothing t' offer her. No money, not even th' promise of such wealth. She deserves t' live th' most beautiful life she can possibly live. Mary should not waste away in a tiny cottage with no food in her stomach and with only one dress. I want her to be happy, Colin. It's hard for me to do this, but I must let her go. Because she'll be better off that way."

"Don't be stupid, Dickon." Colin said after several minutes of silence "She'll only be happy with you. Just…ask her."

"Wha'?" Dickon replied, staring confused.

"Yes. Just ask her. You know what. It's…I know that whatever happens, whatever trials slap you in the face, you'll get past it. It'll work out."

"Wha' exactly are you saying, Colin?" a small smile threatening to form on his lips.

"I…give you…my blessing." Colin strode forward and hugged Dickon, who laughed and hugged him back. "Now all you need is father's" he continued, pulling away.

"Hmm…abou' tha'" Dickon said, running his hand through his hair "Lord Craven came t' me…several months ago. It…ehm…"

"Are you serious? You didn't even ask? He just…gave it?"

"Aye."

"Well, I guess that settles it."

Colin's words echoed in Dickon's mind as he sat beside Mary. She was talking about her plans for the garden come spring time. 'Well, I guess that settles it.' But then again – what about Mary? How did she feel about it all?

"Dickon, are you all right?" she asked touching his shoulder lightly. He looked at her, felt a spark in his chest. He pulled his gloves off and touched her cheek. Before she could say anything he kissed her. No words needed to be uttered. By that gesture alone she knew, she understood. He still loved her, and she loved him too. So she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him, leaning back letting him back into her heart. She ran her hands through his hair, knocking his cap off. They had never kissed each other in this manner before. It was new, electric, terrifying, exciting.

"Mary…" Dickon said breaking their wild kisses. She looked up at him, knowing what was coming next. He pulled away and took her hand in his pulling off her gloves and kissing her fingers. He then reached into his pocket, and pulled out a simple gold ring. Mary let the tears roll from her eyes.

"I love you, Mary Lennox. Would you grant me the honor of being my wife?" She laughed and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "I'm not even sure why you asked! Yes, Dickon! Yes…" He placed the ring on her finger, and she looked at it. A missel thrush sitting in her nest was very delicately carved into the gold. Mary stared at it, amazed "Did you do this?" she whispered. Dickon nodded. "How?"

He smiled and kissed her brow "A friend of mine 'elped. It was done with a sewing needle…patience…concentration."

"I love it. I shall never take it off." She looked up at him "I love you."

"Aye. I love tha, Mary." He puller her into his arms "Tha'art as safe as a missel thrush."

"I know." They didn't feel the dead cold of the winter; only the new promise of spring.

***

This is what Dickon was thinking about, almost two years later, in a foreign land, Mary's letter clutched tightly in his grip. The sun was setting, the heat was worse than ever; sweat trickled down his bare arms. Tears fell onto the crumpled paper. He was wondering where everything went wrong.


	31. 31: Tantrums

**Hi, Readers...**

**How are you? Things are slightly starting to shape up on this side. Anyway, in this chapter you will learn more about Julian. Because he really is such a wonderful character so I want you guys to get do know him more. He plays a huge part in this story - he already has and still will continue to. **

**So take care and reviews as always, puhleez:)**

**Thanks__Cole__  
**

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Chapter 31: Tantrums

Her face was as red as the flames which burned in the fire grate. She didn't say anything, she merely gripped the tea cup tightly in her hand; so tight in fact that it looked like it was about to shatter in her grip. Her eyes, her stance the quivering of her lips all showed her temper was taking control of her entire body. She had only been this upset once in her life; the day she found out her husband did not want to return to their home. A letter had been sent to her from his abode in Mexico. It had said that he was leaving her and keeping his son with him. So as to rear him up as a 'rudy little devil'- she had called it. Of course it also read that he would be sending her monthly checks so as not to fully destroy society's view of her. Several years later he sent their son back to her, so as to save him from the quickly spreading illness. Their son never knew that it was his father who had sent him away; instead he was under the thought that it was his mother who tore him away from his father. When the young boy had arrived in Boston his mother was not there to take him home. It was their manservant and a woman who would soon become the closest thing to an actual mother he ever had. This mother vowed to make sure her son was to be brought up 'within his class' and immediately shipped him off to the prestigious school of the Jesuits near the country's capital. She was pleased to find that though the boy was, at times, as roguish and blithe as his father he had also inherited some of his good traits; the traits which had made him a famed historian, wealthy banker and sought out bachelor. He had his staggering intelligence and logical mind – which at times made his professors stammer in confusion- a natural charm and charisma earning the trust of anyone he met in sheer seconds and many gold ribbons at speech tournaments. But her favorite trait was that he was respectful and loyal, which meant that all she had to do was say 'Your father would want it.' Or 'Your father would do this…' and he would do anything she asked. Not for her – and she knew that, but it did not matter as long as what she willed was done- but for his father. And now she furiously stared at him, and he calmly folded up the letter and placed it in his pocket.

"Would you repeat that?" she said, her voice trembling. He looked up at her with his large brown eyes- her eyes- and said "Mary Lennox is to be married soon. It doesn't say when-"

"Does it say who?" she snapped waving of his reply.

Julian cleared his throat and looked up at her ashen face "Yes. Her friend, Dickon."

"Her 'friend Dickon'?" Mrs. Ramsey repeated malice trickling from her words "The garden boy?"

"Dickon, her childhood friend." Julian answered keeping his tone casual. The breaking of china and hysterics from the woman brought their helper, Madame Beaucroft, running to the door and flinging it open. She found Master Julian standing, wiping blood and Earl Grey tea from the cuts on his face; the remnants of the antique cup lay shattered at his feet. His mother stood opposite of him screaming at the top of her lungs waving her arms like some sort of lunatic bird.

"A garden boy! A man who holds shit in his hands and smudges it in with the earth worms! He is a servant, Julian! A servant! You pathetic man…you lost your suit to him?! To her cousin would be understandable. But to the gardener! I don't care if they were friends! I don't care if they plant pretty little flowers together! This society has lost its mind- No! That Lord Craven has lost his mind! Permitting his niece to marry a commoner! One could only imagine what he would do to her if she were his own daughter, why her parents must be shaking their heads and spitting down on him! That man…why he's…he's as mad your wretched father!" she was about to continue in her frenzied monologue when she heard Julian's quite voice answer "Father was not mad. He was the best man to ever live." They stood facing each other; the middle-aged woman fuming, the young man trying his hardest to maintain his composure. Then she started laughing, the laughter which erupted out of her was one you would hear in an asylum for the insane. Madame Beaucroft stepped forward quietly rubbing her hands together. But before she could say anything the enraged mother turned to her with her flashing eyes and vulture like glare: "Get out." She muttered. The French woman glanced at Julian who briefly nodded and forced herself to leave him to his insane mother, closing the parlor door behind her.

Just as the solid wood was closed she turned back to her son, pointing her finger accusingly at him "Listen here, boy. It's time you know the truth. Your father, yes, he was brilliant. But that brilliance turned to madness the moment he stepped into that wasteland. He no longer went to church with me; he claimed it did not matter. What would happen to his soul was up to him. The next thing I knew he was with the natives, running in the jungle with them, joining their pagan rituals, treating them as equals. I grew ill, perhaps he had one of them slip me a poison, or curse me. But my biggest regret was leaving you in his hands. His only rational idea was sending you back to me."

"No, you had me sent here because of the illness." Julian replied, shaking his head.

"Boy, for all I cared you could've rotten in that hell with him. I did a good job with you, better than he could've ever done. Letting you skip lessons to throw rocks at monkeys and swim in infested waters. I could've left you there, remember that. I could've told him to keep you and you would've died with him and I would be free of the burden he and my parents had thrust on me. You owe me for saving your life."

Julian stared at her in disbelief "I owe you? To this day, I have managed the bank to pay for your frocks and parties. To this day, I have endured your tantrums and hysterics and not said a word. I could leave you as well, you know that. I could…"

"You could go to Mexico?" she said slyly. His eyes grew wide in shock, she continued "Yes, yes. I know all about your plans to return there. Was that what you were planning? Establish as many branches as possible, leave each one to a man you can trust. Place it in their hands; have them continue to send me money. Pretend to woo a lovely young woman to distract me, then the second I turn my back run off to find that little flea ridden cunt. Go ahead. And I shall even give you a tip on where to find her. Try the nearest whore house."

He might've hit her. Right then and there. And he could've; he could've shook her by the shoulders or punch her in the face, even throw the flower vase at her. But he didn't. He took his kerchief and wiped the rest of the tea from his face; the china shards stung his skin but he couldn't feel it. Julian was not sure how he felt at all. Perhaps anger, disappointment, frustration and subtle longing for something which was far out of his reach. That was the plan he had created several years ago. It seemed flawless, for his mother would not notice that he was no longer in London. And when she did, he would be long gone; he would be back in the coastal village, warm under the radiant sun. Julian was used to his mother's tantrums; though he had never seen her this upset for she took his silence as her cue to continue with her over the top shrieking.

He sat back down on the couch slowly; his mother's putrid words sailing over his head. Blocking out his mother's fits was a technique he had perfected years and years ago. When they had started he had been too shocked to say anything, because his father had never yelled at him; no one had. But soon they had begun to get on his nervous and he would yell right back at her. He would then feel his blood rush to his face and the stinging sensation of her hand; sometimes, if he still persisted in fighting her, she would slap him even harder holding his face in one hand and hitting with the other. Julian eventually tired of her slaps and learned to enter another world while she blew her head off with her anger. As an adolescent on holiday he would think of any projects he was to accomplish or mentally recite the new poems and formulas he had learned. At times his thoughts would drift farther away and he would think of her, standing in the surf, and the wind lapping at her long black locks. The slamming of a door signified that she too had tired of ranting and that soon she would be fast asleep in her bed.

This time he thought of Mary. Mary Lennox, and her bright hair, the way she smiled mischievously when he had pointed out that she was bored with the other girls. Then he thought of her friend, and now fiancée, Dickon Sowerby. Over the time spent together, Julian had indeed come to respect and value him as his own friend. He was no fool; he easily put one and two together the moment Mary had mentioned Dickon's name the first time she had taken him to the garden. For what other force could drive men, who were thought to be such friends, then the force of a woman? And he could not blame them. Because Mary Lennox was something else. She cared more about her secret garden than the latest fashion trends; she had a full laugh and did not demurely giggle like the rest. In truth, yes, he had intended to use Mary as a means to distract his mother. He had felt guilty of it at first, to pour your attentions to a girl, give her wrong intentions, and then suddenly leave. But when Julian had come to the conclusion that perhaps Mary loved Dickon, who loved Mary back and that there was Colin who also had strong affections for her, he realized that whatever happened she would have one of them. And he was right. Thus he had proceeded with trying his best to somehow knit the three of them back together. Though he did not realize that Mary's letters would create something new in him. No, not create something new. Her letters brought the wilting flower in him back to life, in a sense. To his dismay he began to find himself being drawn closer to her, being more attracted to her. When her delicate script seemed to be crying he would long to reach out and stroke her cheek and wipe them tear stains away. Upon returning to Yorkshire, there was a small bud of hope inside of him that somehow Mary had grown fond of him as well. That night she had shown up at his bedroom door, proposing a morning stroll in the garden. The small bud of hope glowed in anticipation. It was a small move that made the bud dissolve into nothingness. She took a workers cap and placed it on his head; the laughter in her eyes died and he saw someone he knew. He saw Dickon Sowerby; and he realized that his hopes were wrong. It pained him, but then at the same time he expected it. Because anything which involves the heart always went wrong for him.

He pulled himself out of the sad world and saw his mother was still acting like a maniac. Her gestures had gotten bigger and she had begun to pace around the room. She suddenly threw herself on the floor and begun sobbing into her claw like hands. The dutiful son in him sparked to life and he found himself taking her in his arms and apologizing, telling her – promising her - that he would find a wife and that she would be able to have grandchildren, many in fact. Then he silently cursed himself because he had made a promise and he always kept his promises. He called Madame Beaucroft and together they lay her down on her bed to rest her head since a migraine had begun to develop.

Julian then retired to his room and pulled of his jacket, taking the letter which had caused the tantrum out of the pocket. He untied his shoes and lay down, turning on the bedside light he read the letter once more:

" _January 12, 1921_

_ Dear Julian,_

_ Happy New Year to you and your mother, I hope you had a very good Christmas as well. As I am writing this I am on the train back to school, excited for the New Year ahead because there is much to learn. I shall make this brief because I know that you are very busy and that if I made it too long you would only read half of it then put it aside to be lost in your numerous ledgers. Just yesterday Dickon finally got the nerve up to ask Mary to be his wife. I shall admit to you, Julian, the fight last summer was for Mary's affections. It all seems so far away and silly now. But we all do silly things in life do we not? Father had all ready granted his blessing to Dickon prior as had I. The other night I watched them as we had dinner together and I realized that they will make a very happy house indeed. I shall keep in touch so you know when the wedding is; I hope you come, Julian. You have done so much for the three of us. You're like our new secret garden ( Mary told us that she showed it to you, we are very happy to share it with you ) bringing us together once again. Thank you for all the help. You're a very special friend to all._

_Best Wishes, _

_Colin Craven_

_PS- Please continue to keep this secret: All is well with EW, no unexpected someone to show up. I am considering how I feel about her still." _

He folded the letter then placed it on beside the lamp, then changed into his sleeping clothes and pulled two sweaters over himself and bury himself in his warm blankets. Every bit of him hurt; his body and his mind. He hadn't cried in months, years even, but he cried tonight. He let the tears drip from his eyes and the soft moans of pain escape him. It hurt him to go back to when he was a child surrounded by friends madly chasing each other around, it hurt when he thought of his father's face when he held up a stone and explained why it was historical. Those were the moments when he was happiest. It hurt since he thought he would never be able to experience that joy anymore; because he was trapped in the sad circle his father had tried pulling him out of. Being in the present hurt as much as thoughts of past and future. In the present he was alone, with a crazy mother and tangled in the lives of these three people who he so wanted to be a part of but could not bring himself to break their strong circle. He called to his father; he missed his lopsided grin, the laugh lines around his eyes and the way he narrated various myths of Mexico and far off places where Julian had once dreamt of going. And for the first time in several months he called out to her, to Clara. Of all the people he missed in Mexico it was Clara he longed to see the most.

Her father was a fisherman and her mother had died when she had given birth to Clara, her eleventh child. She was poor and had to stay inside to sew with her sisters because that was how they made money. Sometimes they would play together, some nights he would find her in the jungle crying. He would pet her head and tell her the stories that his father had told him. When Julian had started schooling he would bring two of his books and teach her the basics of reading and writing. He was a very smart child and though he was no more than eight years old he would tell her how important education was. She would nod seriously and say she would become a teacher when she grew up. Their birthdays were a day apart, Julian being older. On her twelfth birthday he brought her the most beautiful flowers he could find and a small heart necklace he had secretly bought with his allowance. The last night he spoke to her was the night before he was going to be sent back to America. That time it was her who found and he was the one who was crying. "Why are you crying?" she had asked, her accent mixing beautifully with the English words. She liked speaking to him in English even though she knew he spoke her language just fine. "Father is sick and I am being sent back…away from here…I am being sent away" he managed through his sobs, wiping his eyes. She tutted, trying to hide her sadness, and wiped his eyes with her hand leaving a smear of dirt on his pale face. She took his hands and kissed them, "Do not cry, Julian. I will take care of your father. I will write to you, and we will see each other in no time."

He blinked his tears away "You will?"

"Yes." She answered brushing her thick curls away from her face and smiling. Julian kissed her lips, it was a child's simple physical gesture and she graciously returned it. Perhaps they were too young to say it, but their simple gesture was their vow to be together again. He walked her to her small home, hand in hand. The next morning he was on the ship to Boston. The last time he had seen her she was standing until her knees in the water holding up the golden heart necklace for him to see, she did not shout but she was saying 'I shall wait for you.' Their correspondence did not last long. When his mother found out about the letters she unleashed her anger on him. That was when he yelled back and felt her slap for the first time. He fought back, angered at being hit. He cried himself to sleep for two weeks straight after that. This was because she had pulled the tiny stack of letters and had him watch as she threw them into the fire- one by one. He had not heard of her since. With everything going wrong now all hope of finding her again was gone.

In the morning he went to the bank and ran through everything and settled all the accounts. He went home and watched an opera with his mother. She woke up the next morning to find that the saying "like father like son" was true. Madame Beaucroft sat in the dining room crying, clutching Julian's note in her hand. He left the country that morning and the only way for people to know he was alive were the monthly telegrams with instructions for the bank based on what was happening in each city, and the few withdrawals he would make from his account. That was the last they would see of Julian Ramsey for a very long time.


	32. 32: Not Enough

Chapter 32: Not Enough

Spring had brought new life to the garden; from the lilies to the roses, from the robins to the lady bugs, from the lambs to the strong ponies. There was new life in the air. It was as though some unseen deity had woken from her winter slumber, she would've been alarmed by the cold state of things. So she fluttered as fast as her swift wings could to all the flowers, trees and meadows. She did this all in one night in order to surprise the people of the country. Now she watched gaily as the two chased about the magical garden like children, screeching and laughing. The man wrapped his arms around the woman and together they spun like mad men, collapsing on the ground in a giggling heap.

Mary stared up into the blue pools of Yorkshire. Dickon's eyes seemed as though they were glowing. She reached up and kissed him, feeling the weight of his body over hers. The warmth made her dizzy, the excitement caused her arms to tingle. Dickon began to plant soft kisses down her jaw and neck.

"Medlock would… gut us if she knew what we were doing…" Mary managed to say in between her heated breaths. Dickon laughed and ran his finger over her lips whispering "Tha's why…we mun never le' 'er find out…" he tried kissing her again when she pulled away. "Shall we marry in the summer, Dickon?" she asked. He frowned and sat up, running his hand through his hair a slight frown forming on his red lips. "Is something wrong?" Mary asked again, sitting up as well.

Dickon regarded Mary seriously, his blue gaze intent and serious. "I…need t' tell ya sumthin', Mary. I know…I hope you know…understand…tha' everythin' I do or…agree t' do…it's for you…for us." He took her delicate hands in his roughed and calloused ones. Mary nodded slowly. "Well…'ere's wha' 'appened…"

For the past month Dickon had been working several jobs in order to earn money for his future with Mary. It wasn't just about providing money for the wedding, it was a matter of finding a cottage where they could spend their entire lives in. And not just them, with their future children as well. And it wasn't just having enough for their future family, he wanted to leave his family some money to live of for a few months until some of his younger siblings found jobs. They were, after all, struggling to put them through school.

So from delivering goods, to tending gardens, to cleaning stables, to helping his mother and sisters sew clothes to sell when he got home at night he did them all. He would sleep exhausted and wake up exhausted, but it would be all worth it, it was that thought that kept him going.

Two weeks ago he was in the McCollough Estate, a wealthy Irish family, nursing one of their prime horses. If a horse were to hurt it's foot they would simply pull out a gun and end it's misery; because a lame horse was just as good as a dead one. But their youngest daughter, Aileen, screamed and howled and through the worst tantrum imaginable when her older brother told this to her. The McCollough children were nothing short of spoiled. Their parents immediately called the local veterinarian, who was no help at all as he suggested a shotgun as well. One of the stable boys mentioned Dickon, because if anyone could help an animal it was him. The family immediately sent for Dickon who took one look at the animal and knew what to do. A week later the white pony was trotting around the gardens with little Aileen sitting on its back laughing contentedly.

A few days later, as Dickon sat on the fence outside the Sowerby cottage, a white automobile came to a stop in front of their little home. The sun had just began to set and Dickon was carving wooden animals he planned to sell to the toy store in Thwaite. "Dickon Sowerby, right?" the gruff voice in the car asked. Dickon recognized the voice immediately. After all, how many Americans are there in England with a southern accent? "Aye. Mister Brandon Smith?" He heard the round American chuckle as he popped the passenger door open and climbed out. They shook hands. "So…this is you in your natural environment? I mean, let's be honest. You cut a fine figure in a suit but…it just ain't right." Smith chuckled.

"Aye, Mr. Smith. This 'ere is th' real Dickon Sowerby."

"And the real Dickon Sowerby carves horses for a living?" he asked, gesturing towards the piece of wood in Dickon's hand.

Dickon shrugged "I do wha'ever. So long as it puts bread on the table an' bacon on the bread…ahh…I've forgotten me manners. Would ye like t' cum in for some tea? Or…"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just…I've heard, from various sources, that you're engaged?"

"I am."

"Well, congratulations! And…I've also heard….she's quite a classy woman."

"I can provide for her jus' fine…" Dickon muttered.

"No…I mean…look, let's cut straight to the chase shall we. Honestly speaking, you need cash. Now don't interrupt, I'm about to make the offer of your life. You're an honest working man with a…big family. You're the kind of man who want to help everyone. Provide for your mom and brothers and sisters. But pretty soon you'll have your own family to worry about. And you're not gonna be able to make the money for the both of them running around town doing odd jobs. You need something more stable. That's how I can help. I've heard what you've done with the McCollough pony, a lame horse is just as good as a dead one. But…poof…you get it running around again. Do you remember what I do, Mr. Sowerby?"

"Raise horses."

"Raise horses. The finest show and race horses in America. Do you know how much money I would give someone who can get a lame horse up and about again? It won't be polite to say it aloud…but it's a lot of money. More money than you can ever dream of making with those wooden toys you got there. You catch what I'm saying, Sowerby?"

"Work for you?"

"Yeah. Work for me."

"In America? I'm not so sure…"

"It's not forever. Two or three years maybe. Establish yourself as a darn good horse handler then next thing you know all the stables will be asking for you. You can come back to rainy little England and train up some English race horses. What do you say, Dickon?"

Mary stood up and began pacing around the garden. He didn't follow her, he watched as she wrung her hands together and brushed the hair from her face. Finally she stopped and faced him, her face was flushed as she whispered "So when are you leaving, Dickon?"

"Next month." He said, rising to his feet "Mary…please…understand."

"I…I do…I just need time to think. To…adjust to the idea of not seeing you for such a…length of time." She gasped, shaking with emotion. Dickon stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "It'll shall pass in no time, love. I promise you. An' when I get back, we'll get a bright cottage right here in Yorkshire. Make our own garden, where our baird'll play."

"How many shall we have?" Mary chuckled into his shirt.

"As many as ye want, love. As many as ye want."

"And you promise all this?" she asked looking up into his eyes.

"Aye. I promise this. I gave ya a ring din't I?" he answered kissing her brow lightly. "This is the last time I'm letting you out of my sight." Mary answered nestling her head on his chest. "You won't regret it."

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**Hello Readers:))**

**Yes, I am still alive:p It's been a veryveryvery long time since my last update. But now I have all the time in the world to write. Sorry for it being quite short:) Though I promise more updates within the next weeks. So expect more chappies:) Its a matter of finding a computer...haha:)) I hope you enjoyed,,,,aaaaaaaaaaannddd _Reviews_ as always:D They brighten up my mundane days:)**

**_Cole_**


	33. 33: The First Summer

**Hello, Readers:)**

**Just a starter..there's a very, very slight spoiler from Wuthering Heights...note shall continue at the bottom:) Once you've finished:)  
**

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Chapter 33: The First Summer

_**Summer, 1921: Kentucky, United States of America**_

The heat was unbearable. It was not only the way the sun beat down mercilessly on his skin, but it was how the sweat slicked down his body, it was how his eyes burned if he looked up from the ground even if just a few inches, it was how his head would feel heavy even if he had only been about for a few hours. The journey to the new land was two weeks. Upon crossing the great ocean separating England from America the party of mister Smith boarded a train to the south. His horse ranch was massive, Dickon watched as horses grazed in pens and looked up as the truck they were on passed them. He twisted his hands nervously.

When the party had arrived at the heart of the ranch they were met by two men. One of them was called John Hopper. He was in his late 40s, a tall and lanky man with rough worn features and a nose bent out of shape. The other was Paul Taylor. In the months to come he would become Dickon's closest companion on the horse ranch. Paul was a chubby man in his early 60s. His dark skin and features gave away his African heritage. He had the warmest voice anyone could ever muster; his hair had gone white with age making his beard stand out. Mister Smith introduced Hopper as the second master of the ranch, the caretaker when he was away. Hopper stupidly scratched his head and nodded to Dickon. Paul was in-charge of the finance and business of the ranch, said Mister Smith. Not only that but he was a musician as well, being learned in piano and having a baritone that could put even the greatest singer to shame.

Mister Smith walked away with Paul discussing the latest happenings on the ranch. John Hopper told Dickon to grab his bag and follow him. He was shown their quarters. It was a large building which Dickon had first thought to be a barn. On the first floor was the mess hall of the help, the second floor was where they slept, each having his own cubicle of a room. The room Dickon was assigned to had white walls a simple cot was pushed up opposite the door, and a desk and dresser pushed up against the left wall. And lucky enough there was a window which looked out onto the ranch.

"We all of uz git up at 3 in the morn' sharp. Meester Smith says yer to look over th' horses, he wants t' make you chief. You wanna be the chief o' the horses, Sorbee?" He said to Dickon with his nasal southern accent.

Dickon only had the time to open his mouth in response when Hopper continued. "Well ye ain't. Ya hear? Sure, Meester Smith is the boss but it ain't fair t' the rest of us. You bein' a newcomer then suddenly…poof…the big man. Do you think it's fair?"

"No, sir." Dickon replied. He knew what kind of man Hopper was, he had met enough to know the type. Power hungry.

"'No, sir' I like that, Sorbee. You a military man?" he asked picking his teeth with his dirty finger nail.

"I served in the war." Dickon answered.

"Then ya got discipline. I like that. I like that. Yer a stable boy first, ye hear? Y'all know what stable boys do?" Dickon nodded. "Great." With that Hopper walked off to attend to his boorish activities. Dickon dropped his bag and sat on the cot. This was all for Mary. All for Mary. He reminded himself that while he unpacked his bag into the dresser.

His days were spent cleaning out the stables, feeding the horses, washing them down and such. On his second week he was made to clean up the gardens, cut the grass, and carry the hay. Grueling tasks he was used to. The only difference was that it was a lot hotter in Kentucky than all the heat in Yorkshire combined. At nights he would take dinner with the rest of the servants then retire to his room to write to Mary. He would receive letters from her almost daily and he would immediately reply. Mister Smith had no problem with the post sent to and out of the ranch. Most of the workers were foreign to the land so he gave them the opportunity to write their loved ones. On some nights, Dickon would sit in the mess hall and read the books Mary had given him. There was 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Leaves of Grass' by Walt Whitman and the newest one was 'Wuthering Heights' by Emily Brontë.

On the docks of London Mary slipped the copy into his hands and gave him a quick kiss, telling him that she had written something that was to be read only when he finished the book. On the boat Dickon had devoured the entire copy in one sitting, which was an accomplishment given the thickness of the book. At the back was Mary's neat script.

" _ My dearest Dickon, _

_ Shall I compare us to Cathy Earnshaw and Heathcliff? Or Cathy Linton and Hareton? I am not so sure. I hope that you find yourself well, and that you have finished the book and not read this letter before hand. No; it would be me who would do that, not you. All you must know is that I shall not leave you. Upon your return you shall find me here, in the garden. In our garden. _

_ We are not the same, you and I. Admit that, I do. For how can one person be the same as himself? That is us. We are one and the same person, please, I hope you agree. I am Dickon and you are Mary. You are a child of the moors and with your love you have made me one as well. I have never been good with words- writing them down. Please Dickon, let this be the last time we let ourselves out of each other's sight. I love you. I love you. I love you. _

_Always yours, Mary Lennox"_

One night Dickon fell asleep with the book clutched in his arms. He was jolted awake when he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He awoke to see Paul Taylor's friendly brown eyes locked on his.

"Lights out, son." He said, his warm voice had not even the slightest trace of the southern accent Dickon was accustomed to hearing everywhere.

"I must've…dozed off." Dickon answered rubbing his eyes.

"It was a long day. You skipped dinner tonight. Want something to eat, kid?"

"I'm fine thanks." Dickon said rising to his feet.

Paul and Dickon made their way to the sleeping quarters, Paul's room was by the top of the stairs.

"Can I just ask you something, Dickon?"

"Sure."

"Where in England are you from? Never asked you."

"Yorkshire, up north."

"Yorkshire. Home of the Brontë sisters."

"'ave you read th' books?"

"The three of them. 'Agnes Grey', 'Jane Eyre', 'Wuthering Heights."

"Aye? Which is your favorite?"

"Probably Wuthering Heights. I've read many books. But I've never read one where I…well..dislike the characters yet enjoy the story immensely."

"Tha's how I feel. I just read it." Dickon said showing Paul the copy Mary had given him. That was the beginning of their friendship. Dickon found that Paul had many copies of books stacked in his room. He soon discovered that Paul grew up in New York and had learned to speak French fluently from one of the people he worked for. He had also taught himself to play the piano. He, like Dickon, was a lover of nature and animals. And a natural business man. But it was evident that his passion was music.

Only three people lived in the main house; they were, Mister Smith, John Hopper and Olivia Green – the niece of Mister Smith. Dickon often wondered why John lived in the main house and Paul didn't, given that Paul was clearly the smarter of the two. He never dared asked though. To ask seemed like forbidden territory. Not much was known about the niece. Gossip about her was shared during dinner, but Dickon never cared to listen. Dickon would only see her on Sundays when everyone would have lunch and dinner in the orchard then the latter in the main house. She was a pretty girl with dark blond curls and dark eyes, and that was all Dickon knew about her.

One day he was on the outskirts of the ranch walking a horse and her new born filly. The area was a small valley between two hills, it was at the foot of these hills where the trees were the thickest. When Dickon had spare time he would walk here and sit on a rock and watch the sun set over one of the hills. On that day, as he led the two horses down the hill he could hear the sound of someone or something in the thicket of trees. He tethered the two animals two a nearby plant and moved forward slowly to investigate.

The first thing he saw was her bright pink blouse. It was unmistakably Olivia Green in a passionate embrace against the tree with a man he had never seen before. He felt himself blush and trudged back to horses to take them back up the hill. Just as he was about to leave he heard her cry "Tom, I said no. Stop!" he froze and began a debate with himself. Should he go and help. But then again it wasn't any of his business. What if she got hurt?

He heard the man, Tom, say "Come on…" she cried out more, telling him to stop and that she 'wasn't ready' Dickon made up his mind and began to move toward the thicket. Just before he reached it he heard a sharp _slap_ then an angered Tom "You slut!" a _thud _and her cry of pain. Dickon ran and found Olivia on the ground, her nose running, and Tom trying to get on top of her and getting her arms over her head. His eyes and Olivia's met and she screamed "Help me!" She didn't have to say anymore. Tom turned towards Dickon and was met with a punch on the nose. He reached forward and pulled Olivia up, and she scampered behind him. It took only a few seconds for Tom to rise from the ground, his hand on his bloody nose. It was then that Dickon got a good look at him. He could've been Dickon's age; with a strong jaw, whispy brown hair and flashing eyes.

"You best be goin'" Dickon said keeping Olivia behind him.

"Yeah?" said Tom "What're you gonna do about it if I don't?"

"Probably knock you in the eye as well." Dickon said calmly rolling up his sleeves.

"You can't talk to me like that! Do you know who my father is?!"

"Not really, no. But I'm sure he'd like to hear about how you treat a lady."

"She's not a lady. She's a-"

"Watch it." Dickon said taking a step closer. Tom glanced at Dickon's fists, turned and made his way far from them. Running in fact. It was then that Dickon heard a small sob from Olivia.

"I'm sorry, miss." Dickon said turning to her and handing her his kerchief "I should've come sooner."

"At least you came." She answered pressing the cloth to her nose.

"He deserved more than wha' 'e got for hittin' you."

"It was my fault." She muttered.

"Don't say tha'. Doesn't matter what a lady's done. Man should never lay a hand on her."

She smiled up at Dickon. "I don't think we've met. I'm Olivia."

"Dickon Sowerby."

"From England?"

"Aye. Th' same."

"Uncle says you're a miracle worker."

"Tha's verra kind of 'im. We should be gettin' back now."

"I'll wait until my nose stops bleeding. I don't want uncle to see. You can go ahead."

"I can stay…if you want? Th' horses I brought need t' be walked after all." She agreed to walk with the horses with Dickon around the valley before heading back to the main house. He soon found out that Olivia had been living with Mister Brandon for three years now, after her mother passed away. She had never met her father as succumbed to his illness when she was still in her mother's womb. Summers and other holidays were spent on the ranch, she was sent to a nearby boarding school for the rest of the year. Olivia wasn't interested in school much; she was a painter, an artiste. But she knew that profession would get her nowhere, so she had settled with the next best option, an option her mother had printed in her mind: marry a rich man.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked Dickon when they had reached the ranch. He shrugged and smiled "I've nowhere t' go. Tha'll find me here."

"That's good to know…this…a secret?"

"Yeah. Won't say a word."

Over the next few days Dickon saw a lot of Olivia around the grounds. More than anyone ever saw of her during her three years on the ranch. One such day Dickon was repairing one of the corals with another worker, Nell Roberts. Paul sat nearby, a simple grammar book propped open on his knee and was testing Nell on his adverbs. Nell was a rough boy of 17, with dark hair and bright green eyes. He and his mother came to the ranch when he was 12, she became a cook and he a stable boy. Years or work had calloused his hands and hardened his muscles though, like Dickon, education was a second thought. Recently, Paul had been teaching the young lad to read and write so as to assure him a future. Having Dickon around as an example helped Nell realize that anything is possible.

That day Olivia approached carrying sweating glass of cool lemonade, she smiled brightly and seemed to float in her white summer dress. Dickon only noticed her when he heard Paul say "Hello, Miss Olivia. What can we help you with?" He looked up to see Olivia smiling widely at him and noticed Nell blinking nervously at her. A sudden pang of loss and remembrance echoed in his heart. He had experienced it himself, the way Nell looked at Olivia.

She smiled nervously at Paul and turned to Dickon. "Hello." She said "I brought you this." Bringing the cool glass closer to Dickon.

"Tha's verra kind. But I'm not thirsty, thanks. Ehm…Nell can take it. You thirsty Nell? Or Paul?" Dickon replied awkwardly turning to the both of them.

"I'm fine." Paul said, with a smart twinkle in his eyes. Nell muttered something and looked at the piece of wood in his hand.

"I brought it for you." Olivia supplied with the hurt evident in her voice.

"She brought it for you." Paul repeated.

Dickon felt his face color, as he gingerly took the glass from her hands and drank. He didn't feel the cool liquid flow down his throat, all he felt were the three pairs of eyes trained on him. The ones of Olivia, joyously watching as he drank the drink she prepared – or had gotten Nell's mother to prepare. Paul's, though he wasn't entirely sure what Paul was thinking. And the heavy gaze of Nell; who probably would've given anything just for the girl to look at him.

"T'was great, thanks." Dickon said, hading the glass back to her.

"I should leave you to your work." She answered, smiling evenly. Dickon nodded politely. "I'll see you then." Then she was walking away, glancing back every once and awhile to wave.

"Oh, my." Paul said chuckling.

"She was bein' nice." Dickon muttered turning back to his work. Nell remained silent.

"Poor girl's smitten." The man continued flipping through the grammar book "So Nell, why don't you give me a sentence using an adverb of manner?"

Nell was silent before he picked up a hammer and said moodily "Doesn't matter anyway." Dickon thought of apologizing, but he didn't know what for. Nell and everyone else knew why he was here; to earn money so he and Mary could have a secure future. It wasn't his fault if Olivia saw things in a different light. He was about to express these feelings when he caught Paul looking at him and shaking his head. Dickon let out a long sigh and returned to his work in the grueling sun.

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**Hope you enjoyed:)**

**This chapter was going to be much longer but I was too excited to post it...sorry:)) Much much more to come:) **

**SIDE NOTE:) :: And by the way,I watchedInglorious Basterds the other day. And if you've seen it then you probably saw Fredrick Zoller ( Daniel Bruhl ) when I saw him I was like...Julian:))...yeah haha, random me. So I guess that's how I picture Julian Ramsey to look like, also he's a charming nazi...as is Col. Hans Landa. Anyway...random trivia:) Just saying. Feel free to share your views on these characters, BTW:D I love hearing these kinda stuff;)**

**To all the readers who have stuck with me since the beginning:) THANK YOU:D**

**Reviews please:) They make days brighter:) Even a short one is better than none:)**

**_Cole_**


	34. The Time Spent

Chapter 34: The Time Spent

A year goes by so quickly. It can be Christmas one day and in the wink of an eye it is Christmas once again. Time seems to move faster when our eyes our closed, when we focus on the external factors of life. Work, University, social events and such. There are lags, delays where one sits and wonders why time cannot move faster for us. Because we know that something great will happen soon, very soon in fact. Impatience is the downfall of man.

Summer had passed, the heat had died down, the leaves began to change color and fall to the ground, and squirrels began hoarding their nuts for the fast approaching icy showers. Families began to save more money in order to pay for upcoming festivities, warm clothes and blankets, food to keep the bellies satisfied. One such family was the Sowerbys; Richard Sowerby, together with his son-in-law Brent Cooper, had begun a small tailoring business. Find extra help was easy with his wife and capable children who would come by after schooling everyday. Not only that but Miss Mary Lennox would be seen in the shop as well, giving a helping hand with the sewing and marketing. Within three months the business was the talk of the town. The Sowerby clan had always been respected in the hamlet; more so now with a successful business.

On the other side of the globe, their son, Dickon Sowerby, worked day in and day out. On most nights he would lay awake reading and re-reading letters from his home. Each day was spent caring, feeding and nurturing the prized horses of Mister Smith. One weekend he was able to accompany some of the other workers to a film being shown in the nearby town, they spent the rest of the day there. It was not a lonely existence, of that he was happy about. And yet it was not as fulfilling as he thought it would be. Each month he would receive his pay, he would then set aside a minuscule amount for his allowance. The bigger portion went into the small chest with Mary's initials.

Winter was difficult for both parties. For Dickon it was the thought of how the unpredictable English weather would affect his loved ones, for it wasn't nearly as freezing in Kentucky. It was also the thought of how far away he would become holiday time. But then on further reflection it was better that he was in a safe location with friends wherever he turned, without a gun in his hand, freezing in French snow and enemies just ahead of him. He was safe. That was his comfort.

For the Sowerbys in Yorkshire winter seemed colder than usual. They weren't sure why but each morning the family would wake with a feeling of terrible premonition. Mary Lennox invited the family to stay in Misselthwaite with her, Lord Craven, and her cousin Colin, who was visiting from University. It was a happy and full manor that year, with the Sowerby, Craven and Cooper clan celebrating together.

Mister Richard Sowerby's terrible cough came during winter but was only noticed during springtime. What also came during springtime was a new shop in town; a tailor shop opened by an upscale Swiss family. The Sowerby-Cooper enterprise began to grow smaller and smaller. By summer they were lucky to have even two clients. As each month passed Mister Sowerby's health grew worse as did Martha's. Her shuffling between chores at the manor, helping in the shop, and tending to her children had caused her health to steadily decline.

By the end of autumn, the shop had gone bankrupt and closed; Martha was confined to the bed and Mister Richard Sowerby said his final good-byes to all his children, save one, and was buried behind the church under a simple wooden cross.

His son living abroad heard of the news two and a half months later, due to the delay of the ships sailing between England and America. The letter was frayed at the edges, the ink had run, and the letters were penned with a slow and careful hand. His mother had taken the time to write him; it was one of the few letters she herself had written. It had arrived to him a week before he had time to read it. As many workers left the ranch in hopes for a brighter future, including the young Nell Roberts, Dickon needed to work twice as hard. He was awake before the rooster and went to bed after midnight everyday. With his mother's letter was one from Colin and Mary. Out of habit he read his fiancée's first, it was also on top of his pile; which meant it had arrived that morning. It had been a hard day, and he had just laid down the axe he had been handling. He sat on a stump facing the lowering sun as he read her story of how it happened. His father's death, his sister confined to the bed, her children and his siblings starving and cold, shoved into the little shack he had grown up in; then Martha's husband, Brent, had taken several jobs to support the family, as had his mother and the older siblings, and how the once blooming business was closed. He couldn't help the tears, the pain. When his family needed him the most was when he was far away from them. Dickon sat on the stump until Paul came looking for him. The next day he wrote her back using very few words: Please help them.

It was the summer of 1923 when Dickon returned to England. He sat nervously on the train, nervously entering the unknown; this was because he hadn't heard from any of his loved ones since the day he had read of his father's death.

* * *

_Hey, readers! :) _

_Sorry for the long long break:((. _

_I am very very glad to inform you guys that this will be the second to the last chapter:) Almost done. Thank you so very much for supporting me through this!!!!_

_'till the last chapter....:)_

__cole_  
_


	35. 35: Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

Chapter 35: Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

Dickon Sowerby had not informed anyone of his return. Not his mother, his siblings nor his fiancée. It was meant to be a surprise; though his return was not the only surprise. When the train stopped at Thwaite station he immediately took the first vehicle which would take him to the little shack which housed his mother, siblings, brother-in-law, and nieces and nephew. Upon his arrival at his former home he was greeted by hugs and many kisses on his cheek. He noted that they had all gotten much thinner since he had last saw them; the already tiny cottage seemed even more cramped than ever. Brent and the older boys had converted the small barn into a one room home where he resided with Martha and their children. Martha was weak, but getting better, she was still confined to her bed.

After his joyous visit with his family he proceeded, strangely enough, to the James estate. Well, formerly known as the James residence. As he approached the mansion he once worked in he noted the pudgy man standing on the steps. The winter had not been well received by Misses James, their physician suggested that she should travel to a warmer climate. Come spring, the family packed up and moved to an equally large estate by the coast of Spain. The news reached the ears of Mister Smith through a very surprising source.

The envelope was stained and travel weary, the postal stamp which marked it was from, of all the places Mister Smith could imagine, Mexico. There was no return address on the upper left corner, only the initials "_J.R._" in clean delicate script. The content of the letter congratulated Mister Smith on his recent victories with his horses, mentioned the James family leaving their estate, then mentioning how sad it was that prime and top of the class land may be sold to a person with no use of it. And what good was the land exactly? The area was larger than most Yorkshire estates, the soil rich, providing wonderfully green grass, and the invigorating moorland air, "wonderful for any animal, especially horses, I would imagine. In fact, set up a ranch there with the best English horses and have a master trainer in charge and I am sure that they'll be the animals to beat in Liverpool! Dickon Sowerby, for example, would do great doing that. Especially since no one knows how to raise animals in that area better than him. I've heard that he's been under your employment of late. Good move for you, he's probably why your horses are the best in America! With enough work they could be the best in England as well." The rest of the letter continued in such a manner. Two afternoons later Mister Smith called Dickon Sowerby into his office to discuss the land in Yorkshire. A week later he informed all his workers of land he had purchased across the sea and how this would be a new ranch he would start in England; and he had chosen Dickon as the head horse trainer. Dickon was allowed to choose his staff; whether they were American or English. It came as no surprise to the other works that Paul Taylor, his sister and her son would be accompanying Dickon in order to start the horse ranch.

Presently Dickon stood with Paul on the steps of the mansion, looking out onto the ground, discussing the stables and other structures which needed to be built. Shortly after, Dickon began his familiar walk to Misselthwaite Manor. As he approached the front of the structure he saw a lone figure standing by the door pulling bags from a car. Instead of taking the main entrance, he detoured at walked to the side of the house making his way toward the entrance near the fountain. Seeing the fountain, shooting water merrily from its pipes, jaunted his memory of three years before when he saw Colin practicing his lunges. Funnily enough, he did see Colin. Though he was no longer with his fencing gear, he stood on one knee holding out a black box to one of the stone figures.

"You can do better than tha', Colin." Dickon found himself saying. Colin jumped to his feet and smiled.

"You're back…I can't believe you didn't tell anyone." He replied approaching Dickon and embracing him. "It's meant to be a surprise." They walked a bit further and talked of what they had each missed in their lives. Colin had become a doctor and he was considering studying to be a Psychologist, "But it will have to wait. I'd like to earn a stable amount of money first if I want the Watson family to approve."

Dickon halted in his steps and faced Colin. "Th' Watson fam'ly to approve? Tha's engaged?"

He watched as his friends lips stretched into a wide smile "I hope so. I haven't asked her yet. But…who knows?"

"Tha's good. Yeah. Who knows?" Dickon echoed looking up at the stone walls of the manor. His eyes caught the glint of Mary's golden hair through a window. Standing where he was he could see her sitting in the library, leaning against the window. In her arms was a lavender blanket; it was a baby. A familiar face approached and sat beside her; running his darkened hand through his black hair. Dickon didn't have to think twice about who he saw. His skin was visibly darker and healthier looking than the confined pallor Dickon had first seen him in, his black hair had grown out, though what had remained the same were the large deer-like brown eyes; without a doubt, it was Julian Ramsey.

There was something undeniably peaceful about the image. Colin noticed Dickon's stare and also looked. "Oh, that." He remarked "Funny story, that."

"I'm sure I'll 'ear it later. Tell Mary to see me in th' garden, Colin. All righ'? Thanks."

"All right." Colin answered making his way into the Mansion glancing back at Dickon's figure leisurely walking to the garden.

* * *

Mary practically burst into the garden. She screamed his name out and ran to where she knew he would be; the old wooden garden swing. And there he was serenely smiling at her as she ran into his arms; he lifted her up easily, her light dress swinging with their motion. Mary wasn't sure how she felt, she was laughing yet sobs racked her throat and tears flowed down her cheeks. Her feet touched the ground but she held on to him, with their arms still entwined around each other they kissed each other until there was no breath in their lungs and warmth throughout their entire body. She pulled away and looked at Dickon, his poppy cheeks were red and soaked, his eyes were a lake. It was a perfect lake, with the wonderful blue and the water of his tears.

"You're home." She gasped, pressing her lips to his once more.

"Aye. And I'm not goin' anywhere ever again." She leaned into him once more and listened to the beating of his heart. They stood like that for a long time, because absolutely no words were needed. When they tired they lay on the ground together, with Dickon's calloused fingers running through hair that had come loose from the braid it had been tied in. Mary was the first one who spoke "Can you believe how time has flown?" Dickon merely nodded and took Mary's slim hand in his, the engagement band still wrapped around her finger; he gave it a soft kiss.

"It's so…funny how you both came back at the same time." She continued.

"Hmm?"

"You and Julian."

"He's jus' back?"

"About a week ago. He's married now, with three children, can you imagine?"

"Three bairns? Was he really gone tha' long?"

"Well…" Mary turned to Dickon, a serious glimmer in her eyes, "the two of them aren't his, they're his wife's."

"His wife's?"

"Oh, Dickon! It's the sweetest thing! They were childhood sweethearts in Mexico, they lost contact with each other and the reason he left was to find her. And when he did, she had two children…and it's awful, Dickon. She…she'd been raped and she couldn't find it within herself to abort them. The eldest is Blanca, quite the shy little girl. And then there's Edwin- who was named after Julian's father. And their baby girl- Evangelina- she's absolutely beautiful."

"Are they settling here?"

"No, Julian's settling some things with the bank. Then, I assume, he'll visit his mother or Madame Beaucroft- whichever of the two. Then he'll make his way back to where he and his new family belong- away from the cold."

"Yes, th' cold. 'e doesn't handle tha' too well, does he?" Dickon chuckled, sitting up and pulling Mary onto his lap.

"You should see him once again. Come!" Mary said standing up and taking Dickon's hand, helping him to his feet. They gripped each other's hands and made their way back to the Mansion.

"Dickon?"

"Yes, love?"

"How many children shall we have?"

"As many as tha' likes!" Dickon replied pecking Mary on the cheek. Together they closed the large wooden- ivy covered door which lead to their secret heaven. The door would open and close many times in the upcoming years. It sheltered them from the guests they had to greet during their wedding, it took up both their free time, even with a little one on the way. The foliage was where Colin would go to think, to contemplate the curious movement of time and the effect of decisions. Roses, lilies and buttercups served as a playground for the small ones which came after. Even with they were older and could hardly find the time or energy to move from their chairs and their beds they held in their hands a photograph taken by Colin, the one after the wedding. Sitting on the old stump in the middle of the garden was Dickon, with Mary's legs strewn on his lap and Colin with his arms wrapped around both of them, all three of them were smiling widely, the tinkle of their laughter had been caught and stilled and frozen for all time on a small piece of paper.

And decades and decades later a young man led his sweetheart into the paradise like no other. "What is this place?" she asked in wonder. He thought for a moment and peered around, smiling "It's wick." The most wick place on the planet.

**- The End -**

* * *

**_Hey, readers:)_**

**_So this was it. The conclusion to a story I started (what feels likes AGES ago) three years ago. OH, MY GOSH! I never though I would finish this story- I never thought it would be this long:) I never imagined the review you guys have given me:) Thank you so very, very much:) I wish I could thank you all individually, I'll try: thanks soooo much to Cat O'Hara Butler, Pansyphoenix, Lady in the Meads, Hero in the Making, Crazy as a bag of spiders, Elyzia ( for my first review) and everyone else...this is starting to become some weird speech:))) THANKS SO MUCH TO ANYONE WHO'S READ THIS. PERIOD:) Thanks to all the reviews and for sticking with the strange turns, the weird characters, the numerous spelling/grammar mistakes:/ I can't thank you guys enough: THANK YOU, SALAMAT, MERCI, GRACIAS, TAUSEND DANK, _**_******KOMAPSUMNIDA...and any other language on this earth...universe:))**__****_

_******I hope we keep our lives beautiful, despite the troubles outside our very own 'Secret Gardens' :D And I hope we can keep our friends, family and loves as close together as Mary, Dickon and Colin ( and now plus Julian) **_

_******Love always, guys:) I hope you enjoyed:) I did. **_

_******PEACE. LOVE. HUGS and MONKEYS :: _cole_  
**_


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